Addicted
by slightly423psychotic
Summary: COMPLETE! I've been suspended from school until I get treatment. I don't think treatment will be able to help me fully. It'll take a miracle to cure me. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Thank you to Kiki for betaing this for me! You're wonderful.**

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

I've never been to one of these before. That's why I'm here now. The thought of it makes my stomach churn and all I can think about are the butterflies that are trying to rip my stomach open and what I'm going to have to say once I'm inside the room. It's not that I'm trying to delay the fact that in just a few minutes I'll have to spill everything, it's just that the door is locked. There are a few other people around me. Most older than me, but I see one girl who looks to be about me age. I figure this won't be last time I'm here, so I better find someone to talk to so it's easier to get through these.

She's dressed casually, and her jeans have a rip in the right knee. I can tell they're like that from wear and tear, and weren't bought like that. She has a bulky sweatshirt on, and her hair is in a messy bun on the back of her head. I notice her nails are painted black.

"Hi, I'm Rory." I extend my hand to her. She either ignores me or doesn't hear me. So I try again, "I'm Rory, what's your name?" Again nothing. I sigh and bit my lip. I'm about to walk away when she lifts her head and purses her lips.

"You've never been here before." She states. Was it that obvious? I look down at my not ripped jeans and hoodie. I don't look _that_ much different, do I?

"Excuse me?" I mentally slap myself. '_Excuse me?'_ What kind of question is that?

"It's like a rule of thumb. You'll figure it out." She doesn't supply me with anything else. I hesitate.

"I'm sorry, what will I figure out?" She shakes her head.

"It's like a thing. You don't know me, I don't know you. Get it?"

"Not exactly." The girl sighed. A wisp of blonde hair falls from behind her ear and she quickly tucks it back. I can tell she's getting somewhat frustrated. "Look, I know I'm new, but I also know that this won't be my only time here. I'm just…looking for someone who I can recognize and be familiar with."

Her eyes widen. "Oh, I don't go that way. I'm straight. Sorry." She turns away from me. I realize what she's talking about.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that it would make these less painful if I at least recognized someone." I shrugged helplessly. The girl nods in understanding. She still hasn't told me her name.

"You get used to it." A pause. I see her looking me over. "I'm Sara." I smile slightly and nod. Her mouth opens to indicate she was going to say something when we're interrupted. A woman in her early 40s approaches the group. I notice that more people have shown up. She smiles at us as a whole and unlocks the door, allowing us all to enter.

The room smells funny. I can't place the smell, but it reminds me of a mix of sweat and pizza. It makes me want to throw up. Everyone takes a seat in a chair. The chairs are surprisingly comfortable. I don't sit next to Sara, but instead see her sitting across from me. The woman starts.

"Welcome back everyone. I suspect you've all had challenging weeks?" There's a murmur of agreement. "As some of you may have noticed, we have a new face. To start out, will someone go first and demonstrate what we do?" A few hands slowly go up. She calls on a young woman. She has a black eye.

"My name is Fee, and I'm 23. I've been addicted to heroin for 2 years, 3 months, and a few days. I've been addicted to black tar cocaine for 1 year and 6 months. And lastly, I've begun smoking cigarettes again in my attempts to stop my addictions. So far, nothing. This weekend, I didn't have enough money for my heroin, so after handing me the vile, my dealer punched me here," She touches her eye, " and here." She points to her stomach.

"Thank you Fee. Someone else?" A young boy goes.

"My name is Ricket, and I'm 14. I'm a crack cocaine baby. It's been 3 months and 22 days since my last time. This weekend, my mom was put back into a treatment center." I bit my lip. It's not even his fault. I look up and I see the leader of the group looking at me. I nod in understanding.

"Hi. Umm, my name is Rory and I'm 18. I umm, I'm an alcoholic. I've been one for 3 years, and a few months. I was suspended from school until I enrolled in some kind of treatment. I'm hoping this works, and if it doesn't…then I have to be placed in a 24-hour treatment center with no family visits. It's been three hours since my last drink." I finish and no one looks sympathetic or surprised. To tell the truth, I'm not really surprised with any of the stories either. They're all in a similar position as me. Sara goes next.

"My name is Sara and I'm 19. My brother—"

"Where is your brother, Sara?" The woman interrupts gently.

"I'm not sure. He promised he'd come today. Anyway, my twin brother and I have been doing 'shrooms and methyl amphetamines since we were 13. I won't speak for my brother anymore. I've also been sexually assaulted." My stomach spins. "This weekend, I had the abortion after much debate. My br—" She was cut off when the door opened. A young male came in. I noticed he looked a lot like Sara.

"Hi, I'm sorry." He sits down in the last empty chair.

"It's alright. Your sister was just finishing." He nods and looks around the room, his eyes settling on me. I cower under his gaze and listen to Sara finish.

"My brother was with me when I had it done." She bites her lip as a tear falls. "It hurt. Really bad, but I couldn't have it. I wouldn't be able to find the father or live with myself if I kept it." I watch as she struggles. "It's been 1 month since I snorted meth and one week since I did 'shrooms." The woman nods.

The rest of the 2-hour meeting goes by quickly. After leaving, I felt relieved. Somehow, it gave me hope. From listening to people's stories, and things they've tried and if it worked…it helped. Helped me. As I was about to leave the building someone grabs my arm. I turn around. It's Sara.

"Look, I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to be a bitch." I shrug it off.

"It's okay. You had a bad weekend." She scoffs.

"Yea." She looks at her watch and then turns her gaze to her brother who stops next to her. I realize he didn't talk today.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Tristan." I nod and shake his extended hand. "So what's your deal?" I must've given him a confused look since he rephrased. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, I'm an alcoholic." I pause. "And I'm physically abused."

"Cool. Meth and LSD are my poison. But hey, we all have our own thing, right?"

I nod. "Yea, I guess."

"Hey, Sara and I usually get ice cream after this. It usually helps us keep clean for a few hours. Wanna join us?" I shrug. I have nowhere to go. I can't go to school, so I agree.

"Yea, sure." We walk. Although we're usually under the influence of something, we know better than to use cars, at least in our sober states. We're all clean at the minute since we'll get kicked out of the program if we show up inebriated in any way. As we're walking to the ice cream place, I try and keep my thoughts from drifting to the unfinished bottle of Vodka under my bed. I can almost taste it, and my mind reels as I suddenly feel a deep need for something other than ice cream. As I almost fall, Tristan stabilizes me by holding my arms. Sara stops and waits. She's not fazed at all.

"Are you okay?" I look into his blue eyes swirling with concern. I nodded and swallow. I grimace at my sore and dry throat.

My voice cracks. "I just went through withdrawal." They both nod in understanding. I forget that they both separately have experienced more than me with drugs and relapse and urges.

"It's okay. Come on, we're almost there." Sara says sympathetically. After a few more minutes and Tristan making sure I'm upright and stable, we finally get to the parlor. As we enter, I silently wonder if there's a vodka or tequila flavor. My hopes are squashed when I see that they only have 10 flavors. None of which have anything to do with alcohol. I sigh. It's going to be a long day.

**AN: I'm back. Hi. I know this chapter was somewhat short and probably confusing, but as the chapters progress it will probably become easier to understand. And yes, Rory is VERY AU. I hope you guys like it, and updates may not be often. Just depends on my course load. Thanks! Emilie**


	2. Chapter 2

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Thank you to Kiki for betaing this for me! HUGS**

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

It started when I was 15. It was the summer before sophomore year, and my boyfriend then, Dean, introduced me to the wonders of alcohol. Later that year, when I started Chilton, I found alcohol to be my best friend. My perfect image was slowly being ruined and I couldn't give a shit. I felt good, and I knew what I was doing. Or so I thought.

My mom has always been an active part of my life, and she was even happy when I started to drink some. She was glad that I was finally going through 'normal teenage' stages. When I look into her eyes now though, I see the disappointment, concern, and hopelessness.

It's gotten so bad, that my school wont allow me to come back until I clean up my act. I don't tell anyone, but I don't see myself being able to 'clean up my act' as soon as they want. I'm not strong, it's the reason I chose alcohol. It's strong for me.

"Earth to Rory!" I turn my head. Sara is biting her lip.

"What?"

"Diana wants to shut the door." I look. Everyone has filed into the room. Only Sara and I remain outside. I nod and follow her into the room. Today is my sixth time in three weeks and today there is a face I don't recognize, but I seem to be the only one thinking this. People have been giving him short nods and sympathetic looks. Diana, she's the group director, starts out as always.

"Welcome back, everyone." Everyone nods. "Who would like to start off today?" A man I recognize as Smith raises his hand slowly. Diana nods in his direction.

"I'm Smith, and I've been doing pot since I was 14. In my attempts to let go, I started snorting coke. This morning was my last time. My wife had her baby over the weekend. I wish I could be there more for her, ya know? I mean, she's doing her best to help me, but sometimes…I just…look at her, and I can tell that if she'd of known I'd be like this, then she would've called it quits a long time ago."

"Oh, Smith. That's not true. She's trying to be strong for you. And you already had many of these habits before you two got married. I'm sure she thought that she could help you through this. Just let her. Keep strong. Especially now that you have a baby. Pehaps you can try and get some natural highs from playing with your new baby instead of marijuana or cocaine. How about you try that, okay?" He nods. "Report back to me next week?" He nods again.

"Alright, who's next?" A boy I recognized as Ricket spoke up.

"I'm a crack cocaine baby, and it's been 4 months and 5 days since my last hit." The group gives a small applause. The boys face grows somber. "My father is in the hospital. He was high and was driving. He ran off the road into a fender on the highway. The car is totaled."

"Do you know how he's doing?"

"No, I haven't gone to the hospital yet, and I don't plan too. I'm here mostly with people 10 years older than me, and he's three times my age. I _want_ to get better, but…I…need my dad. Ya know?"

"I think you need to be strong for your father, Ricket."

"No, screw that! I'm tired of living a lie. He will _never_ get better! Me, however…I'm trying to learn. I can't see him or everything will be shot to hell." I watched him with interested eyes. I only wished I were as strong as him, I only wish I could admit it too.

"Ricket, I understand how you're feeling, okay? And if you need time before you see him, that would be okay. You aren't required to see him. Take your time, honey. We're all here for you, okay? Don't forget." Diana said. He nodded. My turn was next.

"I'm Rory, and I'm an alcoholic. My last drink was yesterday afternoon. I passed out. My school called my house yesterday, to see how I was doing. My mom wasn't home, so I answered. I was wasted. I think they got their answer. I wish I were stronger, and I wish I didn't see disappointment in my mom's eyes. I _wish_…for everything to go back to the way they were."

Diana prompted me, "And how were they before?"

"Good. Nice, dare I say. It's funny how the one thing that's probably sent my addiction into overdrive is the one thing that's discriminating against me for it." I look to my left, and Sara starts.

"Sara here, I have been doing 'shrooms and methyl amphetamines since I was 13. I've been having a lot of thoughts over the abortion I had. I'm so pro-life it's not even funny which is why I have a guilty conscience. I just…" Sara shifts. I watch. We haven't gotten much closer, but I get ice cream with them after every meeting. This time, however, Tristan is not in sight. "if my mother was here…just a glimpse, I think she'd re-kill herself. I'm on the exact road as my mom, and I don't…I cant have that happen. My brother needs me, as I need him." She wiped the lid of her eye on her sweatshirt. I've never seen her in anything less than a bulky sweatshirt.

"You know what, Sara?"

"No."

"You'll turn out fine. You're here. Your mother didn't seek help." Sara eyes widened and she shook her head quickly.

"She was in therapy and groups and rehabs for 9 and a half years before she killed herself. Somehow I think I'm the same as her." Diana nods, sadly.

"Well, Sara, you know the drill. You know I can't make any promises to you, but I'm here, you have all of my numbers. I can only help you, I can't make you." Sara nodded. Another half an hour passed before we were dismissed. I got up and started to walk towards the door. Sara caught up to me.

"Hey."

"Hi." I said, turning to her. "Where's your brother?"

"I don't know. Probably fucking some girl." I gave a surprised look.

"He missed meeting though."

"He doesn't care. He'd be happy if he died from an overdose. He just does it for me. Goes to the meetings, that is." I nodded, frowning.

"Do you still wanna get some ice cream?" I asked her. She nodded. I was starting to favor it. It kept me clean. Kept me satisfied. For a few hours at least. We started to walk slowly.

"I didn't know your mother passed away." I said softly. She nodded.

"Yea, it's been my two brothers and I for the past 8 years."

"Oh, you have another brother?"

"Yea, Tristan and then an older brother, who's 23. His name is Greg."

"Is he umm, is he a—"

"Druggie?"

I let out a breath, "Yea."

"He used to be really involved with pot and shit like that, but nothing major. He was 15 when our mom died and he went to boarding school, so it wasn't like he was around it often." Sara said.

"What about you? You live with both of your parents?"

"Oh, just my mom," I started. "My mom had me when she was 16, so she was raising me as she raised herself. My dad hasn't been in the picture much at all. I don't see or her from him often. I hear more from him now though, since my mom isn't able to control me."

"It must be nice, though. To have a mom so young that she understands."

"I wouldn't take it that far. We're not okay." I said softly. Sara nodded in agreement. She wasn't like any other friends. She understood everything-and if she didn't, she didn't ask questions. And that's the exact way I wanted it.

**A/N: It's on the shorter side, yes. Sorry for the wait. Major 10 page paper for history due Monday. Hope you all enjoyed it, and Tristan will be in the next chapter, as long as someone else who you've probably been wanting to see. Not sure. Anyway, review please! Love, Emilie.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**I love my beta. You kickbutt!!!**

**- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 -**

I've decided, that life sucks without friends. It really does. But not it's not that, that makes much of a difference. They wouldn't want to be my friend, anyway. I'm a mess up, a fuck up, and a loner. Well, Diana's been trying to convince me other wise. It's not working.

Sitting alone in your room is no fun either. When you have no one to call and those that you would call don't care about you anymore you start not to care about them either. The truth is, I don't know if they care about me. I'm too preoccupied with the looks they give me. Like I failed them. Well fuck them. I failed myself long before I failed any of them.

There's a knock on my door. I sigh and look around, making sure all alcohol bottles are concealed or put away. Nothing is in sight.

"Come in." My door opens and my mom comes. She's carrying a folder of papers. I notice her tentative steps. She knows what she's going to tell me will give me a reaction. That's usually how our conversations go.

"Can I, umm, can I sit down?" I nod. She holds out the folder for me. I briefly flip through it.

"What is this?"

"I went to Chilton today, and they agreed with me. Since they'll let you back in when you're clean, they want you to be caught up. This is your school work for the few weeks. I figured you needed to do something to preoccupy your time—in a different way." I give a disgusted look and hand the folder back.

"No thanks."

"Rory, you need to do something else rather then just sit here and waste your time!" I cock my eyebrow. I'm not giving her the reaction she expects. I know exactly why, too. I'm drunk. She won't notice until my breath hits her. I've become a practiced drunk.

"My time is not wasted. Or, no maybe it is. Considering most of the time, I really am…wasted." I inwardly smile at the pun I make. I let out a deep breath. Oops.

"I'm trying to help you Rory, I am! But you have too—" She pauses and gives me an incredulous look. "Are you _drunk_?"

"Nah, I'd like to think of it in more…positive terms." I give her a smile. Once again, oops. I see the disappointed look, the sad look. The one that breaks me more each time.

"Rory…I…don't know what to do. You've put me into a whirlwind of emotions, and I can't do this. Your father is coming tonight. I hope you chose something less…mind numbing." She shakes her head and leaves with the horrid folder. I sigh and run my hands through my hair. Fuck. I don't have meeting today, and I'm not sure what to do. Usually I'm out all day, with people just like me. People who do the exact opposite of what my group does. I contradict myself on a regular basis.

The bus stop is a short walk, and it's cheap to ride. Perfect. The driver knows me, he sees me quite often. Usually he gives me a disappointed look, but today I get off somewhere different, and for once, I see some sort of hope in his eyes. I wish my mom would do that too. I sit down at the round table as the coffee aroma fills around me, caressing my body. If I lived here, in this Starbucks for the rest of my life, I would die happy. Die happy? Who am I kidding?

As I'm drinking my coffee, a young man sits across from me. I look up. He's handsome and looks…new.

"You look pretty young to be here during a school day." He pops me a sexy smile.

"I am too young to be here on a school day. Luckily for me, I don't have to worry about that anymore." I pause. "Do you need something? The pity party is over that way."

"Sarcastic, eh? It's alright, I can deal with that. I'm Luke."

"And I care, because?"

"Because I'm going to take you out tonight." I stare at him. He's about 6' and his brown hair covers his forehead. He has nice eyes. Nice eyes?

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks. So, Ms. Witty, how about it?"

"I'd rather get piss drunk. Oh wait! I already am." I give him a sarcastic smile and get up and turn away from him. As I start to walk, someone calls my name.

"Rory!" Turning, I see Tristan. I'm surprised.

"Hey!" He smiles and walks over to me, giving me a small hug.

"Hi, I don't believe we met. I'm Luke." I turn and there he is, standing right next to us. God, can't he take a fucking hint?!

"Tristan." He says curtly.

"So your name is Rory." Luke said turning to me.

"Oh, so you're smart! Well, that's a _whole_ 'nother story! Of course I'll go out with you now." I give Luke a look. Tristan looks confused.

"Tristan, this is Luke. He's been hitting on me since I sat down." Tristan smiles widely.

"Well that's a shame. I really didn't want to break up quite yet. So, just tell this nice man that you have a wonderful boyfriend who really wants to take you back to his place and have hot sex, because baby, we haven't done it in a week and I'm going crazy!" I give him a look, before grinning.

"Luke, I'm sorry, but I have a wonderful boyfriend who I haven't had sex with in a week and we're both incredibly horny. Thanks for the offer tonight though. It was sweet, but I would've probably been drunk anyways. Tootaloo." I give him a small wave. He looks dumbfounded as I leave with Tristan. When we leave the building, he takes a pair of sun glasses out of his pocket and puts them on his face. He turns to me and smiles.

"So, what are you doing in the broad daylight? I thought drunks preferred the night." I roll my eyes.

"What were you doing in a Starbucks? I thought they didn't serve LSD enhanced coffee." He smirks at me.

"Well, I enhance my coffee on my own." I smile.

"Thanks for that in there, by the way."

"Yea, no problem. You helped me out."

"I did?"

"Yea, I was being hit on too, and then I claimed I saw you."

"Well you're welcome then." We stood there silently for a few seconds.

"Are you up to anything right now?"

"Nope." I shake my head and he grabs me hand.

"Come on, I'll show you something." I give him a funny look.

"Just, come on! You'll like it, promise."

"Okay, but first, would you mind letting me use your sunglasses?" He was right; hangovers and sun do not mix. He laughs and hands them to me before we make our way to the mystery place.

_**-4-2-3-**_

I can feel the alcohol wearing off, as I come back into reality head first. Literally head first. He brought me to a nearby fair and the ride we're on makes me feel like I'm plummeting to my death. I scream. As the ride goes back into the loading station, I glance at Tristan who is just as nauseas as me. Wobbly, we get off and leave the ramp.

"Wow, I haven't been to one of these for a while." I said, somewhat sadly. I curse myself for being weak. He smiles and nods.

"The last time for was when I was 10. Right before Sara's and my 11 birthday." I turn to him.

"We missed you yesterday at the meeting." He shrugged, playing it off as nothing.

"Didn't feel like going." I nod, I want to know_ why_.

"Too many girls to fuck?" I asked, bluntly. He laughed and turned to me.

"Not anymore."

"But there were?" He shook his head.

"Just one, but uh, nothing happened. I was still 'tripping'. She left before anything happened."

"'Tripping'?"

"LSD." I nod.

"Maybe you should've gone to the meeting then." I pointed out.

"I don't give a shit about it. I'm perfectly content with the person I am." I nod. It's weird being completely sober. I don't know what to do with myself.

"But Sara does?"

"She's determined to beat our mom and to be better. I mean, she was a good mom, don't get me wrong, but we're all fucked up because of her drug use. When me and Sara turned 18, our dad hightailed himself to Europe. I haven't seen him for a little less than a year."

"That must suck a lot."

"Not really. It's better this way." I nod, not sure what else to say. "What about you? What's your story?"

"Umm, I go—went to Chilton and they suspended me until I 'clean up my act'. Summer before sophomore year my boyfriend introduced me to the wonders of alcohol. I happened to like it too much. I started Chilton sophomore year, and it's really then that it all went downhill." I look around as we continually walk slowly, aimlessly around.

"So that's why you're in the program? To go back to school?"

"I'd rather be there, than school."

"Amen." I look at Tristan.

"You didn't like school?"

"Nah. My teachers hated me. I often came to school already spent, and I always referred to it as a 'school trip'. Telling them I did it that morning with school in mind. Annoyed the hell out of the principle. But they couldn't do anything, they couldn't kick me out so they dealt with it."

"There's this guy at my school. Greg. He makes it his business to harass me."

"So hit him."

"Not that easy, he's a football player. Plus, I'm scared of him. He threatens me."

"I could take care of him for you." I smiled sadly, a tear fell down my cheek.

"He raped me last year. I never told anyone, he…convinced me I wanted it too. He held a knife by my throat and said he wouldn't tell anyone about my drinking problem if I obeyed. So, of course I did." My head shoots up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this." I look at him. Being sober sucks. His eyes are full of worry. He shakes his head and takes one of my arms in his hand.

"Did…umm, did anything happen?" He asked. I shrug. I don't know what he's talking about. "Did you get pregnant?" My eyes widen.

"Not then," his curious eyes prompt me. "He's raped me many times. One time I did, but I didn't even know until…it came out. I had a miscarriage." I shiver as his eyes bore into mine.

"So you don't want to go to school." He stated. I nod slowly, I don't even know. Being sober for this long confuses me. He noticeably swallows and then unexpectedly, wraps his arms around me and a tight hug. My tears fall freely onto his shirt. I'm crying in the arms of a boy—man—guy who I barely know. Who barely knows me. Yet, I just told him something I haven't even mentioned since it happened. Never even wrote it down. Slowly he pulls away and tucks my hair behind my ear.

"You don't need alcohol, Rory. You need someone to listen." I cock my eyebrow and wipe my eyes.

"What about you?"

"I don't need any of that shit. I do it, because I can. I do it, because it feels good." His eyes drop. "I do it, because I want to be like her, and I want to know what happened to her to make her feel that defeated." I look stunned. "And now, I can't stop."

"Sara's the exact opposite."

"Yea, we've realized." I shift my weight and notice that his hand is still by my neck. I savor the feeling. He realizes it too and starts to move his hand. I quickly place my hand over his, keeping in place. He gives me a quizzical look. Biting my lips, I remove his hand and hold it against my chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really." I say, shaking my head. He pulls me closer, resting his other hand on my waist.

"Tell me."

"I don't want to get better, I don't want to go back to school, I don't want to be raped, I want to be better, I don't want to never see you again." I said in one breath. I look up alarmed. Yea, I definitely said that out loud. He tilts his head, scrutinizing me. He pulls me closer and rests his forehead against mine. I can hear his labored breathing.

"I want you to get better, because you deserve it, okay? Don't not get better because of me." He said softly. I shrug and sigh, shifting my gaze.

"I can't help it. You're the first guy I've ever been with who hasn't taken advantage of me. It feels good." Looking back into his eyes is the most mesmerizing thing I could ever do. I try and look away, but his gaze holds me. I feel his face shift slightly and my eyes flutter closed. My lips tremble as he places a soft kiss on them, gently sucking my bottom lip. He continues with soft, delicate kisses down my jaw and to my ear, kissing me just behind it. Traveling back, he barely touches my eye lids, and then again settles on my lips. I let out a whimper. My body is trembling from the gentleness. Leaving a lasting kiss on my lips, he pulls away. Still trembling, my eyes open again to look into his eyes again. He rubs my back to ease my trembling.

"You okay?" I shudder and close my eyes, nodding. I reopen them and take a deep breath. It's one of the only times I'm not worried about breathing deeply, because I know I have no trace of alcohol on my breath.

"Thank you." I say very softly. He gives a tiny smile and nods, kissing my forehead.

"Come on, let's get some ice cream." He says, grabbing my hand. I smile, fully. Maybe being sober isn't _that_ bad.

**A/N: Wow, that was FAST!! Yea, well my bazillion page history paper was due today so…yay!! Actually, it was 10 pages, but still. Anyway, this ones a bit longer, and dealt with her life outside the meeting. Don't be fooled though, not all chapters will be this happy or fluffy. Anyway, I hope this one was satisfactory. Thanks everyone!! Love, Emilie**


	4. Chapter 4

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Thanks a bazillion to my beta, Kiki. She adds, spellchecks, and intensifies my chapters. Mucho gracias!!**

**- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 -**

And just when I thought everything was dandy and alright in this world, my father comes back. My mom, being a teenage mom, didn't marry my father in her rebellious streak against her parents. Now, I see my father maybe once every other week-and that's because my mom doesn't know what to do with me. It's such a nice feeling knowing that I'm able to bring my parents back together. Open mouth, insert finger, puke guts out.

The minute I got home from my 'outing' with Tristan, my mom drills me with questions. With a sweet voice, I tell her to fuck off, and then go to my room where the comfort of alcohol awaits me. Two hours later, and passed out on my bed, my father walks in and wakes me up.

I'm surprised to see him so close. Usually he observes me from a distance, offering my mom pitiful advice that she soaks up. But nope, he's sitting in front of me, looking at me thoroughly.

-4-2-3-

"_You're wearing your mother down, Rory."_

"_I don't give a shit." I spit out. I do not want to have this conversation. I'm already worn out from my confessions to Tristan today. My father gives me a stern look. I roll my eyes and listen. I can try and at least be polite. But then I get full yelling and accusing rights. It seems fair._

"_Rory," he starts softly. "You need to. This can't keep going on. You're a senior in high school. Soon, you'll be at college, and then we can't help you anymore."_

"_I'm not going."_

"_What?"_

"_You heard me." I say, mockingly._

"_What do you mean? What are you going to do? Just sit around and do nothing all the time?" I give him a steely look and cock my head._

"_No! I'm going to continue to live my life."_

"_Wake up, Rory. Your life sucks!" My eyes bulge at his accusation. I gape before tears roll down my face. Wiping them away furiously, I get my courage back._

"_Fuck you," I grovel out as I stand up. "You don't fucking know anything about me! You don't know anything! You don't know why I drink, you don't know what goes through my head, you don't know what I've been through. So fuck you. Fuck you, and whoever you think you are to accuse me of something of which you know _nothing_ about. You wanna try being me for one fucking day? Fine, go ahead." I move away. "There's one rule. You don't get to kill yourself." My hands are twitching at my side as I slam my door shut on the way out. I catch a glimpse of my mom, her face stunned. It makes me angrier. I slam the house door shut too, and I can almost feel the vibrations from it. I wonder how the glass didn't break._

-4-2-3-

It goes through my head over and over again. It's the only thing I hear. I'm aware of the people coming in around me, but to me, they're all mute. Not even Diana, who makes a raucous opening the door, wakes me from my trance. I can vaguely hear her calling my name, repeatedly. Finally, she shakes me.

"Rory, are you alright." I shrug.

"Am I ever, alright?" I shoot back. She nods understandingly.

"Would you like to stand out here for a little longer to collect your thoughts and then join us in a few minutes?" I nod. I don't even know if I'll enter the room. She nods and gives me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. She enters the room and shuts the door behind her softly. I look around and see the table behind me. Hoisting myself onto, I stare at my fingers.

I spent last night at the only place I can go. Greg's. My head is still reeling from it. I didn't tell Tristan that part. That when I'm lost or can't be at home, I go to his place. It's not rape then. I give him sex for a place to sleep at night. I scoff bitterly and then I slam my fist into my thigh. It hurts, but not as much as everything else does. The tears come again, and I wish I weren't so weak. I glance at the door. I know it's a soundproof room, so I let out a gasp for air. I hear it softly ricochet throughout the barren hallway. It makes me gasp harder, as I quickly wipe the tears away. Letting out a strangled cry, I fling my hand across my cheek.

The slapping sound does nothing for me. It burns. It burns like a flame is against it. But I don't feel it for more than a second. At this moment, I can barely feel anything. I get off the table, and I run. I don't know where, but I run. And as my legs start to collapse under me from strain, I look around and my stomach drops when I see the expansive landscape. I knock on the large door, and jab a finger at the butler who answers.

"Where's my father?" He gives me a frightened look and points. I nod and run towards the hallway. I enter his office, and he stands up out of habit. When he sees me, his eyes bulge.

"Rory."

"No, you fucking don't get to talk." I started, silencing anything else he was thinking of saying. "It took all of my power last night not to slap you across the face. It took every fiber not to strike…to just walk away. You were barely _ever_ in my life until I started spiraling downward. How do you know I didn't do all this just to get you back into my life? Huh? How do you know that I didn't do this so I could at least get some kind of attention from my father?" I watched his face fall. It felt good to give someone else my pain. Even if it was my own father.

"Rory…I"

"Fuck you! You have no right to tell me my life blows. I fucking already knew that, thank you very much. I don't need anyone else telling me that. And just so you know, your life ain't all that splendid either. You've got shit going on in your life no one else would want." I pause and look at him straight in the eye. "And as far as I'm concerned, you have _nothing_ to do with my problem, so don't get excited. _You've_ made yourself _nothing _to me, and you will _always_ remain nothing to me. Keep out of my life." I spun on my heel and once again, ran.

It's surprising how far you can run in such a short amount of time when you're not thinking of anything but getting away. When the only thoughts going through your head are the ones you're running from. So as I caught my breath, bent over towards my knees, I wasn't surprised that when I looked up, I was at the gates of Chilton. I walked slowly, breathing deeply. My tears had long been replaced by anger. Seeing many uniform-clad students, I realized it was about lunchtime.

Fellow classmates who had seen me, gave shocked expressions, quickly nudging and informing their friends. Soon, many of the lounging students were staring at me. I didn't even know if I was allowed on school grounds. I figured that the worst that would happen would be someone asking me to leave. So I stayed. I continued walking, extremely aware of my jeans and coat, making me stick out a like a sore thumb.

As I continued walking, taking in everything around me, someone clapped their hand on my shoulder. I jumped in surprise. Turning my head, I couldn't help but smile at the girl. No matter how much competition we had between us, Paris Gellar _did_ have a heart.

"Hey!" She said. I gave a smile. A real one, as she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I hugged her back.

"You're alive." She stated as we completely pulled apart. I gave her a look. "I just mean, you got called into the office one day, and then just…disappeared. No one has seen you in almost a month." I nod my understanding. I can tell she's waiting for an explanation.

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?" She snorted.

"Who would I possibly tell? Louise and Madeline? No thanks, all I hear from them nowadays are the good lays they've had the night before." I crack a smile. It was a nice feeling to know that not _everything_ had changed. Taking a deep breath, I start.

"I wouldn't say I was suspended…just dismissed for the time being."

"Not seeing a difference here."

"I'll just get it out. I'm an alcoholic. Chilton dismissed me for the time being-until I'm clean at least. In fact, I'm not allowed to come back until I'm completely sober 24/7." Paris looks shocked.

"Wow. Since when have you been an alcoholic?"

"Sophomore year I guess. I started drinking the summer before, and I guess-" I'm cut off by the bell.

"-and I guess that it just escaladed from there." I said finishing. "You should probably go. I don't want to get you in trouble." Paris nods softly.

"Look, school sucks without you, so I hope you get better, okay? My mom's an alcoholic and I've seen her struggle for years. I guess…just good luck." I smiled at Paris' sincerity. It didn't come out often. I gave Paris another quick hug.

"I'm not sure when I'll see you again, but…don't stress to much okay? School is just a small fraction of your life." I said as she started to leave. She nodded with a smile and waved before joining the rest of her classmates.

Sighing, I watched as the last student went through the doors, leaving me standing in the dead quiet. I slowly forged on, sitting on a bench that was just occupied by students. I try to remember what it was like, to be in this position but a fulltime student. I can't remember. I must have been sitting there for an hour or so, because I heard the bell ring again to signal the switch of classes. Ten minutes later, a voice startled my peaceful atmosphere. My head shot up.

"Greg." I said, biting my lip. He nods towards me and sits.

"I heard you were here."

"Yea, news travels fast around here." He nods.

"So baby, what are you doing here? Couldn't wait to get another session in?" I grimaced.

"You wish. I ran here from my dad's house. Looked up and here I was."

"Sounds fun, but baby, I've been thinking about you all day." He said scooting closer. He put his hand behind me on the bench, invading my space.

"Greg, can we please not do this?" He smirked and shook his head.

"But you're here, and I have a free period. That would just be a shame." He said, coercing me. He'd used all his threats on me, and I was still worried by them all. He managed to keep me in his power-even after all this time. He lowered his head to my neck, teasing my skin. I whimpered and shut my eyes. I had become immune to his touch. I now faked the sounds he wanted to hear. Now, I did everything in my power to just get it over with.

Just as he was about to actually make a move, another student came outside.

"Hey Greg." The guy said and nodded. He glanced at me, surprised. "Rory, hey."

I nodded in return. Ben? Brett? Brandon? I didn't remember.

"Greg, Hayes wanted me to find you. We need to work on our Shakespeare project." Greg groaned as I visibly relaxed.

"Fine. Rory, next time. I promise." Although we both knew it was more a threat. All I could do was nod as the two walked away. Slouching in my seat, I walked away. Nowhere was safe.

**AN: It was a little longer this time, about 6 pages. Anyway, more drama and romance and sadness and curse words are coming. Not sure when, but it will. I tried to add more of Rory's outside life, and also she had an interaction with Greg (the guy who rapes her). Anyway, thanks and please review! Love, Emilie**

**And to address a plot question:**

**The character Luke from last chapter is not important, and was NOT Luke Danes. He was a made up character.**

**On the other hand, Tristan, is in fact Tristan Dugrey. I, however, am rewriting history. He never went to Chilton.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Thanks to my beta, curlyk03, I looooooooooooooooove you. In a completely cool beta my stories kinda way. Haha.**

- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 -

I wrote a song yesterday. I actually sat down and wrote a fucking song. It goes like this:

_I've never been much_

_I've never been brave_

_I've never had a father_

_I've never been saved._

_I'm out in this world_

_With nothing to protect me_

_From everything I don't want to be_

_But it gets me, and traps me_

_In this giant, deep swirl._

And that was as far as I got before I crumbled it up and threw it on my dresser. It might have actually been good for all I know. Fuck it, there's half a bottle of Absinthe and I'm not about to let the brilliant green liquid go to waste. As I put the bottle to my lips, the telephone rings. Of course. When is something _not_ interrupted? It stops ringing and within one minute, it starts ringing again. I groan and suck it up.

"Yea?" Pleasantries are usually a waste of time.

"Is this Rory?" Not a voice I recognize.

"Yea, who's this?"

"It's Diana…from group?"

"Oh, hi."

"Hi, I just wanted to let you know that we've missed you at group these last few meetings." I nod to myself.

"Yea, I've just been out of it lately."

"I know, but I hope that you'll be at the next one. Unfortunately because you're enrolled unwillingly, you have to meet a quota. If it would help, we can split up meetings so you come to half of a meeting but twice." I whimper.

"No, it's okay. I'll be there."

"Alright, there's one today in fact. Shall I come pick you up?" Pick me up? What?!

"Pick me up?"

"Yes, or do you have a ride or do you want to walk?" What about taking the day off?

"I'll walk." I grumble.

-4-2-3-

The smell of pizza and sweat hits me full on as I enter the already full room. All of the chairs are taken so I pull one up from the wall. Diana smiles at me.

"It's good to see you Rory."

"Yea." I mumble and sit down without any grace. About ten minutes into the meeting, the door opens and Tristan and Sara enter. Tristan grabs a seat for both of them and people move over to fit them into the circle.

"Running a little late today?" Diana asks.

"Yea, sorry. Sara couldn't find her glove things." Tristan says pointing to the striped gloves Sara is wearing. They look like cotton biker gloves but go up to her elbow. There is a slit for her thumb. I do a double take. Sara is out of her normal sweatshirt and jeans, and wearing a tank top and khaki shorts. I try and remember, but I can't remember it being all that hot outside. Maybe it was high 60s at best. I catch Tristan's eyes and he gives me a small nod.

"All right, let's begin." Diana calls the attention of the group. Dave, a 20-something year old man, starts without hesitation.

"My name is Dave, I'm a heavy alcoholic, and my last drink was last night. I have the hangover to prove it." Diana nods.

"Is there any reason why you felt the need to drink last night?"

"I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend, I guess. I miss her a lot is all." Diana nods sympathetically. For once, I want her to _not_ be sympathetic. Instead, chew the person's head off, make them feel bad about themselves and _tell_ them what a fuck up they are. That's an idea. But to my surprise, Diana doesn't have any helpful advice for Dave. Or maybe she did. I don't know, I tuned out for a while.

"I'll go next." Smith says. Diana nods. "Hey, I'm Smith. My wife had a baby a few weeks ago, so I've been trying to keep busy with the baby instead of using cocaine or pot. I think it's slowly working. The last time I used pot was 5 days ago, and I used cocaine 2 days ago. Before that, I used pot a week before and coke 4 days before." Everyone claps, including me. Diana, for once, has a real smile on her face.

"That's great, Smith. You must feel really proud of yourself." He nods. "How's your wife been feeling about all of this?"

"Well, she said she was proud of me yesterday, so I'd say great." Diana nods.

"Congratulations. Keep me informed, okay?" He nods. "Alright, who's next?" Sara raises her hand.

"Ahh Sara. Good to hear from you."

"Yea. So I'm Sara. I like methyl amphetamines and 'shrooms and all that jazz. The last time I did anything was yesterday afternoon. I'm just…I dunno. Things have been so-so lately."

"How so?"

"Well, my brother—my other one—came into town yesterday, so that was good. He's been helping me use less and less, but this one," she points to Tristan, "He has such a different attitude that sometimes…it sets me back." Tristan scoffs. They've clearly talked about this before.

"Tristan, do you have anything to say to that?"

"Hell yea. Sara and I are completely different people. If she's willing to get better, that's _great_, but I should not be responsible for her. Her willingness to get clean is her own thing."

"You know, Sara, Tristan is right. No one should influence you. He is his own person."

"I know. It's just hard to have him around doing all this stuff and wanting to do it, but knowing you shouldn't." Sara said, shifting.

"Well then, Tristan maybe you can try and respect Sara by going to a more disclosed area to do whatever it is?"

"Sure." His nonchalant response came.

"Sara, does that work for you?"

"We'll see." Diana nods and then shifts her focus back to Tristan.

"What I'm wondering, Tristan, is why you're here if you don't want to get better."

"Sara wants me here."

"Yes, but if you're not willing than there is no point to being here, right? Other than to occupy an hour of your time."

"It's an hour I'm not doing drugs."

"If that's what it takes then by all means, stay, but if you're only here for Sara, then perhaps you should do some thinking." Tristan nods and stands up.

"Thank you for showing me the light." He says in a sarcastic tone and exits. Everyone looks in surprise. Sara looks down, and slides further into her seat. Diana sighs and the meeting goes on as planned, nothing else out of the ordinary happens. She dismisses us for the day and everyone exits in a bustle. As I walk through the barren hallway, I see Sara lagging behind. I slow down as she catches up to me.

"Are you okay?" She nods her head.

"My brother is sometimes an ass. There's nothing I can do about it so I just have to deal." I nod. As we exit the building we see Tristan sitting on the stairs smoking a cigarette. Sara walks up to him and kicks his arm.

"Oww, what the fuck?" He jumps up rubbing his arm with his free hand.

"I can't fucking believe you. Why the hell would you just…walk out?"

"Newsflash Sara, she practically _told_ me to leave. It was either stay and keep getting interrogated or leave and sacrifice her respect but keep my dignity. It wasn't exactly a choice." Sara nods.

"I'm sorry." She says, softly. He nods and gives her a hug. She takes the cigarette from his hand and takes a long drag from it. She offers it to me. Tristan looks at me curiously, waiting to see if I take it. I don't, and it must have been the right choice, seeing as Tristan nodded in my direction. We haven't talked since the kiss, but it's okay. It was nice, whatever it was. Even if it was just for one afternoon.

"You guys wanna get ice cream?" Sara asks. I can tell she doesn't want too. I know she wants to get back home to see her other brother.

"Nah, I'm good. I have to go…do something." I say, but it sounds more like a question.

"I'm going to the drugstore." Tristan announces. Sara nods.

"Alright, peace out. Tristan, I'll see you later and if you can, buy some lifesavers—the fruity kind. And Rory, I'll see you soon." We both nod in her direction. Sara goes one way, Tristan and I the other. We walk in silence towards the drug store. I was planning on walking past, continuing home, but I like the comfort that Tristan gives me. He holds the door open for me, and I follow him to the pharmacy counter. I look confused as he scans the shelves underneath. My eyes widen as he picks up a box of syringes.

"What are those for?" I feel like an idiot asking, but I couldn't help myself. He smiles but doesn't answer. "Do you use that to inject yourself?"

"I have, but now rarely. I don't like needles and they leave ugly marks on your arms." He shows me his arm and I see faint circles of where he'd once injected himself.

"That dark one I did probably three weeks ago." I nod. "I mostly do it orally. The other needles I sell." I raise my eyebrows. "Every two or three months I make injections for people. Mostly legal stuff—insulin, stuff like that. But I've also made injections of heroin and a few other things."

"Isn't that…illegal?"

"Well yes, but so is LSD, and so is alcoholism. At least for you." I look down. He has a point. "You want anything?"

"Some gum would be nice." He laughs and we pay for my gum, the lifesavers and the needles. I chip in my dollar against his wishes. We exit and continue walking in the direction of my house.

"I never thanked you for bringing me to that fair." He smiles and shrugs.

"Well you're welcome. Being alone all the time isn't all it's cracked up to be." How right he is. We partake in some more idle chitchat until I notice that we've come to my house.

"You just walked me to my house."

"So?"

"Nothing…I just well, thank you."

"Once again, you're welcome." I look towards my house. No one is home. He looks at me.

"Do you, maybe wanna come inside?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Are you sure?" I nod.

"I'd probably get drunk now anyway. You'd be a decoy for at least a few minutes."

"In that case, show me the door." I laugh and we enter my house. "Nice place."

"Thanks." He follows me to my room. His eyes go wide as we enter my room.

"Rory, your room smells like thrown up alcohol." I frown. I'm not surprised. I sigh and turn to not face him. He gently grabs my arm, and I instinctively pull it away.

"Hey." He says kindly. I turn to him. He slowly reaches for my arm again. "It's okay. Had I known I would've bought you something at the drugstore." Excuse me? Is he for real? He let's go of my arm and walks to the window opening it. He picks up a fan and places it on my vanity, then turns it on. It whirls to life and within minutes I can already smell fresh air. I sit on my bed, and Tristan joins me. We face each other.

"How've you been?" He searches my eyes as I think about his question.

"Okay. I've been better."

"But you've been worse."

"When I'm drunk." He nods. I feel withdrawal coming on as I try and focus on something else.

"Have you seen Greg again?" I nod slowly.

"When I'm in fights with mom, I go to his house. I give him sex for a place to sleep."

"Come to my house next time. Not only will I give you somewhere to sleep for _free_, we also tend to have really good breakfasts." I smile and nod.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." I blink my eyes. My eyes are starting to water from lack of alcohol. Tristan notices.

"What's up?"

"I'm sorry, this is just…"I turn away.

"You okay?"

"No." I stand up and take an alcohol bottle out of the closet.

"Wasn't the point of me coming inside so that you _wouldn't_ drink?"

"Yea, but..I just, I can't deal without it." I start to open it. "I haven't drank in a while and…I'm…just.." I lift it to my lips but Tristan quickly stands up and takes it out of my hands. He recaps it and places it back in my closet. I run my hands through my hair. I feel dizzy with want. I want it, I need it. My breathing deepens as my eyes repeatedly open and close fast. Tristan comes in front of me, steadying me. I close my eyes for a minute and reopen the slowly to find myself sitting on the floor, with Tristan next to me. I swallow and my throat is sore with dryness. He cups my cheek, slowly rubbing it, making me focus on him.

"You're okay, you're okay," he keeps uttering to me. I shake my head and lean forward into his hand.

"Wait here." He quickly gets up and returns swiftly with a glass of water.

"I can't…I can't breathe." I hold my chest. Tristan quickly turns me to face him as he leans forward and kisses me. It's not like before. The other one was gently and slow. This one is fast and demanding. He caresses my face and coaxes my lips with his. I feel him in a way breathing into my mouth. My head spins with his extra oxygen as I register and focus on this new distraction. Slowly, I regain control of myself and I kiss him back moving into his lap and putting my arms around his neck deepening the kiss. He trails kisses from my lips to my neck where he kisses to my pulse point and bites down right below. I moan as my head drops to the side allowing him more access. I feel his hand rubbing my side gently as he moves back, placing a solid drool worthy kiss on my lips. He leans back, tucking my hair behind my ear and licks his lips.

"Feel better?" I nod incredulously. This is the first time a craving has completely dissipated. I shift more comfortably into his arms, situating myself in between his legs.

"I've been saying thank you a lot lately."

"I'm okay with it, as long as it's for a good cause."

"Is me not drinking a good cause?"

"Hell yea." We both smile and he holds me against him tightly. I lean up and place a kiss on his neck, then nuzzle it with my head. He squeezes me again and we just sit there. For how long I'm not sure, but long enough so that my mom has come home from work.

"Rory?" She calls from the living room. I look at Tristan, who's looking at me curiously. I nod to him. He gets the message and helps me stand up. I'm dizzy for a second, but with Tristan right next to me, I'm able to ignore cravings. With him holding onto my hand we exit my room.

"Hey mom." She turns to look at me and then does a double take at Tristan.

"I'm sorry, but I must have found your alcohol stash and am now hallucinating. I swear I see a male standing next to you." She blinks a few more times and then turns to look at me. I feel Tristan squeeze my hand.

"Mom, this is Tristan. Tristan, my mom Lorelai." Keeping my hand in his, he extends his right hand and shakes my mom's hand. She shakes her head. I see her mind working over time. Uh-oh. This isn't good.

"Explain to me why my daughter has a boy in the house when she's supposed to be on probation."

"Well, mom, Tristan is actually—"

"No, wait. Stop. Rory, there is a boy in the house. You were alone in the house with a _boy_. Oh my god." I watch her take a deep breath. Shit. "I mean what were you thinking? You are on the watch list of every person around, and you go and do…_this_? What the hell were you thinking?!" I open my mouth to speak, but she continues. "You probably met him at your drinking parties!" I tune her rants out as I focus on keeping calm, desperately wanting to forget that I have unopened and opened bottles of vodka, whiskey, absinthe, beer…everything. I open my mouth again to speak, but no words come out again. Instead, I feel hot tears falling down my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, cutting her off.

"Today was the first time in over two and a half years that I've felt like myself and you go and say that." I wipe away a tear. Tristan's encouraging squeezes go unnoticed by me. "You know, mom, sometimes I really do wonder if part of the problem is you. Just _once_, I'd like a, 'Rory, I know you're fucked up now, but it will be okay. One day you will be okay'. Just once. Please, just once say something like that! Make me feel like I'm not the most pathetic person you've ever met! Make me believe in myself." I feel my tears gushing. I take my hand from Tristan and quickly exit the house. My mom looks surprised.

"Lorelai, I know it's not my place, but before you came home, I was able to get an alcohol craving to pass. Unless you're able to do that, perhaps you're not in the position to be making accusations. Excuse me." He nodded his head and quickly left. I hear Tristan calling and running after me. I'm not sure what is rain and what is coming from my eyes. Either way, my clothes are becoming soaked.

"Rory!" He finally caught up to me and he grasped my wrist not letting my instincts take over and pulled me to him crushing me in a tight hug. He pulls back and licks his lips sadly.

"Come 'ere." He said so softly I could barely here him over the downpour of rain. I look at him through glassy eyes and prep myself for another hug. Instead, I get a kiss, warming me from head to toe. It is everything I want my mom to tell me, just without words. He gently bites my bottom lip and separates.

"Come on, you can stay at my place tonight." I nod, silently. My brain is too chaotic with emotions and thoughts to think of anything at the moment. With his arm around my shuddering shoulders, he leads me to the bus stop. A few minutes later, the bus comes and the driver frowns at our soaked clothes.

"We're getting off at Rosa Circle." Tristan informs the driver as we take a seat next to each other. I lean against him, eyes closed. His warm body pressed against mine keeps my breathing steadied. In all honesty, you can't completely ward off a case of withdrawal, but he's doing a pretty good job of keeping my mind off of it. I feel a gentle shake.

"Rory, we're here." I look up and I see the bus has stopped. We slowly trudge off the bus and onto his street. I can't help but look at all the mansions we pass and of course, we go up the driveway of the largest one. He laughs at my gawking face.

"That's the usual response."

"You…live here?"

"Everyday."

"It's incredible."

"Wait till you see the inside." I inwardly smile. Had I known that my alcoholism would bring me to meet Tristan, I would've done it years ago. He takes a key out and unlocks the door with swift practice and let's me go in first before following and then shutting the door. The house is astonishing.

"I'm home!" Tristan yells. A few seconds later, footsteps rush down the stairs. Looking up, I see Sara running down the stairs.

"Rory, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Fight with my mom." Sara nods.

"Hey I'm gonna go get some dry clothes for both of us." Tristan says and then walks away, heading upstairs. Sara looks at Tristan, and then looks back at me.

"You guys didn't have sex, did you?" I shake my head quickly. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Yea."

"I'm not stupid, and I know something happened between you and my brother and that's okay. He's a good guy most of the time, he just has some need to understand my mother."

"He told me that."

Sara nodded. "What I said today at the meeting about him setting me back…I've actually never met someone who is so willing to help. But he does set me back when I see him doing meth and shit…but if you need help with your alcohol thing, my brother is the one to help. Granted, Greg, my other brother is wonderful, but…Tristan just gets it. Do you get what I mean?"

"Sort of."

"I have no problem with you going out with him. I mean, usually I would, but I actually like you, so I'm okay with it. Just, treat him well and don't take him from me. He needs to be here, or I'll end up like my mom." I bite my lip and give her a hug.

"I promise he'll always be your brother." We separate.

"Thank you. So, what's happened with you two anyway?" A smile develops on her face. It's been awhile since someone's cared enough to ask and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with delving into details with Tristan's sister. But I trust her, so I do.

"Well, there's this fair he took me too when I skipped meeting one day and we kissed. And then today, we kissed some more and he settled a withdrawal." Sara smiles and nods.

"He hasn't kissed me or anything—thank god. That would be kinda gross, but he's settled a craving for me too. I don't get how he can do it."

"it's amazing." We turn at the sound of footsteps and see Tristan dressed in dry clothes and holding more clothes.

"Sara, I took some of your stuff. Cool?" She nods and smiles in my direction.

"I'm gonna make some pasta. Spaghetti sauce okay with you, Rory?" I nod, smiling. An eerie sense of calm settles over me. It reminds me of before my addiction. When I was a normal, happy teenage girl. Before I was introduced to alcohol and it's wonderful curing powers. Why is there no wonderful curing power to alcoholism?

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom." I follow Tristan upstairs and continue to marvel at the house. To put it straight, it's gorgeous. I take off my wet clothes and let them fall the floor with a wet 'pat'. I look up quickly and I have to brace myself with the wall. God, I need something to drink. I'd do anything to get rid of these feelings. Sara's clothes fit me, so I don't hesitate to exit the bathroom. I hang my clothes over the drying rack and exit to see Tristan standing there.

"Good?"

"Yea, good." I retort. He grins and takes my hand in his leaving a soft kiss on my lips. I look up at him and struggle to not allow myself to melt with the look in his eyes. Full of concern, adoration, and a little bit of want. The mixture keeps me struggling to stand up straight. And then I realize, it's not all because of him, my body has no alcohol in it, and it's really starting to take an effect on me. Not even Tristan can bypass this one.

"I need to sit down." He nods quickly and leads me to a bedroom. I presume his. I sit on his bed and hold my head in my trembling hands. I feel sweat covering my forehead as I wipe it away and look up.

"Tristan, will you tell them to go away?" He looks at me confused, so I point to the door where a few people are standing and just watching. Occasionally snickering.

"Rory, there's no one there." I nod and spin my head, trying to rid it of the hallucinations. "When was the last time you had something to drink?"

"Yes…yesterday. Yesterday afternoon." More wiping, more sweat. He takes my hand and kisses it warming it in his own hands.

"Rory? Are you okay? Come on, you're okay." I nod as shivers take over my whole body. He takes the blanket from the edge of his bed and covers me with it rubbing my sides, trying to warm me up. I shiver more. I hear him call for Sara and Greg.

"Please, not Greg. Please, I can't." He continues to rub my sides. I see Sara push through the non-existent people and gasp before running out. Tristan lies me down and kisses my lips, trying to get me to focus on something else. I look over and see a boy that looks like Tristan. I hear Tristan call him Greg and I get even more confused. This isn't Greg. I wiggle my head and I see him take out a needle. Date rape. I wish the people would stop snickering and just leave.

"Leave, please! Just fuck off." I scream and Tristan holds me, continuing to pepper kisses along my face.

"Rory, baby, there's no one there. Okay? It's all in your head." I feel the heat coming from his body, but it does nothing to get rid of my chills. The other guy leans over and uncaps the needle bringing it to my arm. I start to thrash. I will _not_ be a victim. Tristan holds my arm down and I scream as I feel the needle enter my arm. He looks at me and then leaves. Tristan gently eases the pressure of me and wipes the hair from my sweaty forehead.

"You're okay." He repeats to me, over and over again. I feel my body start to relax and with the help from Tristan, I start to stop shaking. I see Sara re-enter with a washcloth. She gently dabs my forehead and then hands it to Tristan who takes over. Sara and Greg both leave, shutting the door. Tristan continues to dab me with the cold washcloth. My neck, my face, my hands. He sits down behind me and gently leans me up and rests me back down so I'm leaning against chest, in between his legs. He slowly lifts up the sweaty shirt and dabs my stomach. Slowly going higher, allowing me to stop him. But I don't. He keeps rubbing until he gets to the bottom of my bra. He stops and then goes back down. Keeping me alert with the cold washcloth and his traveling hands. Eventually he stops and takes off his shirt. I sigh at his rippled abs. I don't think I'm in the right state of mind to be seeing such an amazing body. He slowly pulls up my shirt, this time without stopping underneath my bra. It barely registers that he's taking off my shirt and replacing it with his warm, dry shirt. I snuggle into the oversized shirt and lean against him. I'm tired and a little woozy. I'm not completely sure what has happened. I close my eyes and shortly after, I feel myself fall into and light nap.

It's the thunder and lightning that wake me up. I wake up, shooting into a sitting position suddenly after a large thunder sounds. I'm immediately dizzy as I lean back down to hit another person. I look behind me to see Tristan, looking at me, with a book in his hand. He smiles and brings me back against him.

"It's just thunder." I feel him chuckle beneath me. He leans over and hands me a glass of water, which I greedily drink.

"What happened?" He puts his book down and sits up. He has a shirt on again.

"You experienced severe withdrawal."

"Oh."

"Hallucinations, shaking, sweating…forget LSD or whatever, you just got everything I get but without doing anything." I hear the amusement in his voice and it causes me to smile.

"I'm sorry." He shrugged.

"No big deal, although you did have all three of us worried."

"Three?"

"Yea, my brother and Sara. GREG! SARA!" I wince at his loud voice. _Greg?_ I feel like I've been through this before. Two figures appear in the doorway. I recognize one as Sara, and the other I vaguely remember injecting me.

"Hey, I'm glad to see you're okay." Sara said entering and sitting on the bed.

"What did you guys do to me?" I feel like I'm slightly drunk, but I know they haven't given me any alcohol.

"Well we gave you a barbiturate. It acts like alcohol, but seeing as you're an alcoholic, it would've been kinda dumb for us to give you alcohol. So instead, we settled your craving with a different substance that settles your craving for the feeling." The injection guy says. I nod, confused.

"Where did you get that stuff?"

"Remember how I told you I make injections for people sometimes?" Tristan asked. I nod in agreement. "Well, that's one of the injections I make. Usually barbiturates are pills, but we weren't sure if we could get you to swallow one, so Greg injected you."

"Greg?" The unknown guy raises his hand in acknowledgement.

"You're not…" I trail off.

"Rory knows another Greg. One she doesn't like." Tristan supplied for me. Greg nods.

"Well, I'm mostly good. You're feeling better?" I nod and he nods back.

"Allright, well I think Sara is making dinner, but Tristan, I wouldn't move her. We'll just bring her some food, okay?" I feel Tristan nod.

"Sounds good." Sara and Greg smile and leave.

"Do you remember anything?" He asks me.

"Bits and pieces."

"We'll give you s few pills to take home, just in case something like that happens again, okay?"

'Okay."

"How long did it take?"

"For you to come out of the bathroom and go into complete withdrawal, about ten minutes. For us to calm and settle you down, about five minutes after you were injected."

"Wow." It's silent for a few minutes. "What's it like? LSD, I mean." He cocks his head. "You said that I experienced everything someone on LSD has experienced. Well what's it like?"

"Well, how do you mean?"

"How does it make you feel?" I clarify.

"Depends, but usually it's like nothing you've ever felt. Everything you've ever wanted comes true. Time is non-existent and nothing is impossible. But for you, I was talking more about the hallucination part mostly."

"Oh okay." I pause. "I'm surprised more people don't do LSD, then if it's that amazing."

"People do it, and then they have 'bad trips' so they get scared and stop. Unlike a bad batch of pot, which is altered chemically, LSD can just happen at any time and just without warning fuck you up. I've only experienced that once, and it was minor."

"What happened?" He keeps his voice soft and soothing.

"It's fuzzy now, but I thought I would never reach reality again, that I'd be stuck like that forever. I felt like people were taunting me."

"So a part of you doesn't want to be distanced from reality then. You might, after all, like it here." He smiles.

"Sometimes it's not so bad."

"Like when?"

"Well, right now I'm liking it a lot." I blush and concentrate on the circles he's rubbing on my stomach.

"I'm liking sobriety right now too." He smiles and kisses the top of my head. I notice then, that the radio is on very softly. It adds another level of comfort. I haven't honestly listened to the radio in months.

I turn my head to look at him. "Hey Tristan?"

"Yup?"

"I hate to sound like a teenage girl, but what are we?"

"What do you want to be?"

"I want you to be alcohol." He laughs awkwardly and cocks his head.

"What?" His voice is filled with confusion, but the smile doesn't leave his face.

"I mean, your sister told me she's never met a person more able to help someone than you." He nods for me to continue. "I…I want you to help me. If you can that is." There I said it. He nods with a small smile on his face.

"I thought you didn't want to go back to school."

"I…don't. You just make me want to be better." I turn in his arms to I'm facing him, halfway lying on my stomach. "To get better." He places a clump of hair behind my ear and nods.

"Of course I'll help you." My stomach flips at his tone and I place a crushing kiss against his lips. He sucks in air from me, and pulls me closer. He slowly rolls me over so he's hovering above me prodding my lips over and over again, each time delving his tongue deeper. I moan at his ministrations and allow him to wrap me in his actions. He leans up.

"So, when you said alcohol, you meant, you want me to be your addiction?" He asked, a sly smirk covering his face. I open my mouth a few times. This smirk is new for me. I don't know what to make of it.

"I guess." I say slowly.

"I can deal with that." He kisses me again rubbing his lips over mine. He climbs off me and lies beside me so we're facing each other. He continues to soothingly rub my side, every so often placing a comforting and warming kiss on my lips. The ongoing thunder in the background goes unbeknown to me as the soft song coming from the radio keeps the sensations Tristan has provided me ongoing. Continuing. Caressing me and winding me in. Like an addiction. I'm slowly becoming addicted to him. And I'm not afraid anymore.

_I close both locks below the window _

_I close both blinds and turn away _

_Sometimes solutions aren't so simple _

_Sometimes good bye's the only away _

_And the sun will set for you _

_The sun will set for you _

_And the shadow of the day _

_Will embrace the world in grey _

_And the sun will set for you _

_In cards and flowers on your window _

_Your friends all plead for you to stay _

_Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple _

_Sometimes good bye's the only way _

_And the sun will set for you _

_The sun will set for you _

_And the shadow of the day _

_Will embrace the world in grey _

_And the sun will set for you _

_And the shadow of the day _

_Will embrace the world in grey _

_And the sun will set for you _

_And the shadow of the day _

_Will embrace the world in grey _

_And the sun will set for you_

A/N: I'm sorry about this long update, but I was stuck. I waited a while and this is what came out. I hope you like it. The song at the end is NOT mine. It is called "Shadow Of The Day" by Linkin Park. So this chapter was kinda halfway fluffy and serious. This is the start to Rory's up-looking life. And the song at the end sorta works. The song itself sounds hopeful, so I thought it would work. Anyway, thank you everyone and I hope to get another chapter out somewhat soon! Love, Emilie

**And to **_**-19MikaelA87-**_**: Yes, the Greg thing is sick, but I was trying to make it a point that this is one of the reasons she's keeping with her addiction. So she doesn't have to see him.**


	6. Chapter 6

Addicted 

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

T – PG13 

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Ahh my love kiki. THanks for being a good sport. We can be bad updaters together!! Thanks soooooo much. Xoxo, emilie.**

**- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 -**

I wake up to the buzzing of my phone. At some point last night I had put my phone on the nightstand and fallen asleep. As I pick it up and open it, I notice that I have 7 missed called, all from the same number. My mother. I should've known. Usually I stay at Greg's, so with one call my mom knows where I am. I can't say she doesn't care about me, she does. She just doesn't have the patience or whatever to help me or wait for me to get better. I flip my phone shut and roll back, entirely to comfortable to move. Looking around, I take in the white sheets and forest green comforter that covers Tristan's bed. After much negotiation, Tristan had managed to persuade me to sleep in his room. Sara and Greg (who I now call Ryan—his middle name—because of the other Greg) also agreed with Tristan. They didn't want me to sleep alone in the guest room because of what had happened.

Dear Diary,

I am now in the second boy/girl relationship of my life. After long talks after hours and many…ahem…make out sessions, we decided to give it a go. He even gave me his Letterman jacket! Aha, psyche. He doesn't own one, and I'm not all that into that stuff anymore. Ahh, remember when people actually said 'psyche' in a sentence when they were joking? Thank god that went out or someone would be missing some teeth via my fist.

Love,

Rory

The mental loggings of my persona are interrupted by a knock on the door. Figures, once interrupted, always interrupted. I turn towards the door and see Tristan enter.

"Hey." He says and comes and plants himself next to me.

"You don't have to knock, you know. This is _your_ room."

"I know, I just didn't want to open the door and you be…naked or something." I grinned.

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all. We just wouldn't want to spoil everything all at once." He leans forward and I met him in the center, gently moving my lips against his. I taste something tart and pull away, licking my lips. I smack my lips together trying to place the taste.

"Lollipop." He supplies.

"For breakfast? Eww." He laughs at me and nods.

"How do you feel?"

"So-so. I have a small headache." He nods and rubs my back gently.

"Think you can walk downstairs? Make an appearance?" I nod and push the covers down. He helps me stand up and I feel slightly dizzy. He wraps his arm around me keeping me up and steady. We slowly walk towards the door and he slowly let's go as I get used to walking. We enter the kitchen hand in hand. Sara is sitting at a counter marking up a newspaper. She looks up as we enter.

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

"I have a little headache, but otherwise fine." Sara nods and smiles. She pats the seat next to her.

"Do you want anything for breakfast?"

"Is there any coffee?"

"Tristan, you heard her. Get the girl some coffee." He stuck his tongue out, but got it for me anyway. What a well-trained gentleman. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"I'm thinking a fun day—Dugrey style." I watch as Sara smiles wide.

"I love it. Hey, Rory, you should come." I nod slowly.

"What is it?"

"Well we basically all pile into a car and go to every fun place we can think of. Basically it _always_ lasts longer than a day—usually like three, but it's amazing! If you come, that'll make it four. The perfect number." I think about it for awhile. It's not like school will be missing me.

"I'd love to." Tristan smirks at me and stands next to me.

"So did you guys have sex last night?" I spit my coffee back into my cup. What is it with her and asking that?

"Yes, Sara. Long, hot, passionate, primal sex. We thought you heard us." Tristan retorted. She shrugged and grinned.

"Just checking." A few minutes of silence pass. Thinking about the hot coffee as it burns down my throat, I think about my addiction to alcohol. At the moment it doesn't even make sense. What does alcohol give me that this doesn't?

"Morning." I look up at see Ryan coming into the kitchen, grabbing a box of Cheerios and pouring them straight onto the counter and eating them. Neither Sara nor Tristan looks phased by this. It makes me wish I lived here.

"We're doing a Dugrey fun day. Where to first?" Sara asks. Ryan grins.

"Is she coming?" I nod. "Well, that's good. I'd say we go bowling first, kick off the day, then maybe a beach or arcade?" Tristan nods his approval.

"Let's do it! Operation Fun has just begun." I look around confused. The three of theme are searching cabinets, filling a cargo bag with boxes of food. As I watch them, I feel as if they're emptying their whole kitchen.

"Come on." Sara says and leads me to her room. It's beautiful and is decorated in reds and oranges. She empties _everything_ out of her drawer and puts it into a duffel bag.

"Will you grab everything on the right side of my closet?" I raise my eyebrows, but do as I'm told. Holding about fifteen dresses in my hands, I bring them to her. She shoves them into the bag and continues to stuff article after article into the bag. She motions for me to follow her again and when we arrive downstairs, I see that both Tristan and Ryan have large duffel bags as well.

"Got everything?" Tristan asks, looking between Sara and I. I shrug but Sara nods enthusiastically. I follow them out to the car and sit in the backseat with Tristan. Sara and Ryan take up the front, connecting their iPod with the radio. I quickly take out my phone and text my mom. I didn't exactly want an amber alert put out for me. My text was simple and to the point.

_With Tristan. I am fine._

I put my phone away and lean into Tristan, who makes it his duty to stroke me whenever possible.

"Hold on. We don't pick up stragglers." Ryan warns and then literally presses his foot all the way down on the gas pedal. I feel as if I'm plastered to the seat for a few minutes as he accelerates from 0-45 in 5 seconds.

_423_

We stumble our way into the house as my head spins. It has been five days since my last drink and I feel awful. It's really been getting to me the last couple of days making the other three annoyed with me. Tristan did assure me, though, that they were used to it and I shouldn't worry about it with them. They had far to many problems of their own to judge me. And I believed him. I especially believed him now.

After spending the last four days with Sara, I finally knew why she picked the style of clothes she wore. She had faint bruises everywhere—thanks to her ex boyfriend, and she had cut marks on her wrists. It was the real reason she was in therapy.

The four of us collapse on the sofa, exhausted from the long trip. We were up from 9 am to 3 am everyday, hoping to beat crowds and show our denomination of every place we went. It's about 4 pm now, and we're all wide-awake with nothing to do.

"So, now what?" Sara asks. No one says anything so I speak.

"Well as usual I'm free, so I guess I'll just hang around or whatever. Maybe go to the playground or something. Anything besides going home."

"Yea, I'm off work today. I'll probably—" Tristan got cut off by a sharp knock on the door. "—answer the door." Tristan finished, starting to leave.

"I got it!" A voice yelled. I saw Ryan blur past me towards the door. The three of us waited and listened. The door was opened.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Yes, we're looking for this girl. Have you seen her?" Ryan looked at the picture and looked back up at the officers.

"Is there a reason you're looking for her?"

"Yes, her mother thinks she may have been taken hostage."

"I…um….TRISTAN!" Sara and I looked at each other. Tristan left the room.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem. We're just wondering if you've seen this girl?" He looked down at the picture of Rory and bit his lip.

"She looks familiar, but I cant place her face. Oh! She's in my therapy group. Is she missing?"

"Yes. May we search the premises?" One of the officers asked.

"Do you have a search warrant?" Ryan quipped back and they displayed it promptly. They stepped back. I bit my lip, wide eyed and ducked behind the sofa.

"Sara!" I whispered. She shrugged and stood up, leading me to the side door. I quickly thank her for taking me on the trip and waste no time giving her a hug. What we hadn't counted on, was more offices waiting outside. They immediately saw me and ran towards me. I couldn't do anything but wait for them to reach me and 'imprison' me in the cold plastic back seat of the police car. Looking out my window, I saw Tristan starting to run towards me. I reached for the handle but there wasn't one. I had no escape. The cops caught Tristan and held him back. I watched as he fought them, seeing him mouth curse words. I bit my lip and let the tears roll. Once imprisoned, always imprisoned. They hadn't even given me the barbiturates. I was fucked.

_423_

I've said less than eleven words in the last three hours. I counted. _Fine…Yes…Leave me alone…Please._ Six words. That has _got_ to be a record. I search my room and I find that all alcohol bottles sealed or half-empty are gone and my room has a fresh smell to it. I see a plug-in air freshener in the outlet and roll my eyes. A bit later, my mom comes in taking hesitant and careful steps. Literally and figuratively.

"Rory?" I don't give her the courtesy of a response. She lost that option when I was locked in the back of a police car. "Will you talk to me?" She sits down on my bed and I shift my gaze to look out my window. "It needed to be done. You know that, right? These boys you're running off with…they can't be helping. They're probably worse off—"

"Boy." She looks startled as I cut her off. "One boy. One boy, who mind you, has helped me more in the last few weeks than anything else has." She looks happy that I'm talking to her.

"Where did you meet him?"

"Group."

"How can he help you when he's in trouble himself."

"He does LSD which is not addictive."

"Oh because that's _so_ much better." She says sarcastically. I frown and shake my head.

"Shut up." The words come out with venom. Lorelai looks taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm tired of you treating me like this. Treating me like I'm…like I'm a disease." I stutter.

"Well perhaps you should grow up. Maybe then I'll start treating you like an adult."

"When did we come to this? _When_ was being an alcoholic EVER in my plans?" I ask exasperatedly. I stand up quickly.

"I can't do this."

"Don't you dare think about leaving this house, young lady. If you're going somewhere, I'd be happy to accompany you. I'm doing today and nights, your father is doing day. You are never going to be out of our sight anymore." I feel my insides crumbling. I feel everything I had worked so hard for in the last week being shot to pieces. I feel my head spinning. I feel my legs collapsing underneath me. I feel the ground rapidly coming towards me. The last thing I feel? My head connecting with the floor. Then everything's black.

**A/N: A little shorter this time. Sorry about the wait. I've been out of it. We'll see when I get something out again. I hope this was satisfactory—ish. Thanks! Love, Emilie**


	7. Chapter 7

Addicted

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

And thanks to my beta, Curlyk03, for continuing to put up with me and my bad spelling. Hearts!

**- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 -**

I wake up to a dull thumping in my head. The lights are dimmed so I can sleep and when I wake up, I'm not blinded. I move my hands and see a blood-oxygen meter clamped on my finger. My hand has an IV in it and I can feel the needle moving as I clamp and unclamp my hand. I shift and a stream of pain shoots across my head. A nurse pops her head into the door.

"Oh you're awake. I'll go page your doctor." I don't say anything. She turns and leaves. A few minutes later, a doctor walks in smiling.

"Hi, Rory, I'm Dr. Marshall. How are you feeling?"

"Shitty." Blunt as usual.

"Yea. You hit your head pretty bad. There's a nice bump on your head, but luckily no permanent damage was done."

"That's good news."

"Yes, it is. Your mom told me you were an alcoholic so we put you on a drip that will stabilize you for the time being."

"How nice of her." I say dryly. He ignores my comment.

"Seeing as there isn't much damage, we'll be discharging you in the morning. Is there any reason you feel you need to stay?"

"I'm an alcoholic. Do you have anything to help me at home?"

"Unfortunately no, because you're supposed to be on an anti-drug program."

"Supposed to be."

"Would you like to see your mom?" Umm no.

"Not right now. Is there by any chance a guy named Tristan waiting?"

"I don't know, but we've been given strict instructions not to allow anyone but immediate family to see you. We've been given a list."

"Figures."

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Alright then I'll get your mom." He turns to leave.

"No. I wont see anyone unless I see Tristan first. You can tell my mom that."

"You should really see your mom, it's—"

"Oh god, my head." I wince in pain. He probably knows I'm faking it too.

"Are you alright?"

"I think it's best I rest." He sighs. Clearly my mom has been giving _him_ the orders instead of the other way around.

"Tristan, you said?" I nod.

"He has blonde hair and blue eyes."

"I'll be right back." I lean into my pillows and wait. I wonder what happened to Tristan and Sara after I was taken away.

"Is there a Tristan in here?" The doctor calls into the waiting room. He sees two people stand up on opposite sides of the room. One has brown hair, the other has blonde. He points at the blonde one. "You, come here." He obediently obeys and walks towards the doctor. He leads them into a more private location. Lorelai is looking on with interested eyes. "You know Rory, right?" He nods.

"Is everything okay?"

"She wants to see you."

"I thought—"

"She wont see anyone until she sees you." He nods. Lorelai overhears and bolts to them.

"He won't go in, I won't allow it."

"Unfortunately, ma'am, the patient has requested to see him. You need to stay here." The doctor signals a man to come over.

"Make sure she doesn't go any further than this waiting room." The man nods and Lorelai helplessly watches as Tristan and the doctor come to my room. I gently rub my eyes with the hand that doesn't have an IV in it. I see Tristan come into view and I hear him breathe in relief at seeing me awake.

"Make this quick, I don't know how long we can keep your mom out there." My heart swells. Why is it that the people who are strangers are usually the nicest people?

"Thank you. Really, this is one of the first times an adult has done something _for_ me and not _about_ me recently."

"You're welcome. I'll be back in a few minutes." He shuts my door and leaves Tristan and me alone. He advances towards me. I manage to scoot over and make room for him. He sits down and faces me, tracing the bruise on my head gently.

"How're you doing?" I shrug.

"My mom won't let me out of the house. I guess it just all overwhelmed me. She and my dad are taking shifts of watching me." He raises his eyebrows.

"Wow." He takes my hand into his and squeezes it.

"What happened after I was dragged away?"

"They questioned us for a little while. They couldn't actually say we kidnapped you or whatever since you came out crying to me the night before we went to my house." I nod my agreement.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"Group. Diana said you were here." I nod and I feel tears building. A tear falls down my cheek. "Hey, what are those for? I'm right here." He brushes away a tear and leans down closer to me.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course. It's either you or drugs and personally I prefer you a lot more than drugs." I smile at this.

"I prefer you more too." He leans down and gently places a kiss on my lips. He places his other hand on the other side of me.

"You know, I think it's kinda sexy that you only wanted to see me." I blush, something I haven't felt in a long time. It's an extremely welcome change. I move over more and pat the bed. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to me, resting his head on one hand and placing the other on my waist. It feels nice, being like this. It reminds me of when I first started going out with Dean. We would lay like this, talking about random things.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Remember when you offered Sara that cigarette that one day? The day you came back to my house with me."

"Uhh, well I've offered a lot of cigarettes to Sara, but I remember it vaguely, why?"

"Did you want me to take one? I couldn't tell." He laughs.

"I'm glad you didn't. It was more to see if you were the experimental type, or just the type who made a mistake and couldn't escape it."

"And what did you find out?"

"It was the latter." I nod.

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, I was just trying to get a feel for who you are. Believe it or not, but we don't actually know that much about each other."

"I know. My mom blames you for my alcoholism."

"What? That's ridiculous. I met you after you hit rock bottom. And I'd like to think I've helped you. It's been, what…5 days since your last drink?"

"About that, and you've helped more than you think you have."

"I've never heard or seen you being this sincere without the hesitation." What a strange statement. "It's a nice change. Is this who you really are? This sweet caring girl?"

"It's who I used to be, before I got so fucked up." Pause. "I never cursed before either. Hell wasn't even a word in my vocabulary."

"You asked me a few days ago to help you and I'm going to try my best. But if you're not fully into this, then it won't work."

"No, I am."

"Alright, then I am too." I smile gratefully at him. I don't love him, but the connection I feel to him…it's mind-boggling. "So tell me about your dad."

"I don't know anything. I see him more now though. They have some need to be the ones to cure me."

"They always do." He says quietly. I give him a strange look. "Before my dad left, he…he tried to get Sara and I better. I guess a mixture of things sent him away."

"That's awful." He nods.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"What?" He laughs at the change in topic.

"Just answer!"

"Umm, chocolate brown or crystal blue."

"What?" He points at my eyes and then lifts some of my hair into view.

"Crystal blue eyes, chocolate brown hair." Again I blush. He chuckles and leans up onto his arm so he's looking down at me. I look into his blue eyes and wish he could be here forever. Even his demeanor is helping me. He brushes his lips against mine. I grin and pull him closer, opening my mouth for. He slips his tongue into my mouth and nips on my bottom lip. He places soft kisses onto my cheek and to right below my ear. "I don't care what your mom says, you'll figure this out. You're not a waste, you've just hit a rough patch. I know people who've dealt with alcoholism for much, much longer than you have and they're not even taking an initiative to get better." I take my hand and pull him back to face me, before leaning up and pulling him down with me, wrapped up in the kiss. Yelling in the hallway separates us.

"I don't care if I don't make the rules! That boy is poisoning my daughter's mind and I will have none of it. Either you bring me to her room, or I'll find it myself."

"Miss, it's against hospital policy to—"

"Does it look like I care?" Tristan moves off of me and situates himself so my head is leaning on his legs. He's stroking my hair, keeping me calm as we listen to the voices. The clicking of her heels echo's as she nears my room. I hold my breath as the clicks come from outside my room. They stop and I can sense my mom's eyes on us. Tristan's gaze remains on me and my eyes don't lift from his leg.

"Alright, I think it's time you stopped polluting her mind." Lorelai steps closer.

"No matter what, don't move." I whisper so only Tristan can hear.

He whispers, "I wont" back.

"Hello? Did you hear me?" He lifts his gaze to her.

"I think the whole hall heard you. And the time I leave is when Rory asks me to leave. Not a moment sooner." Lorelai scoffs in disgust.

"Rory, honestly, this not a game. This is your life." I slowly sit up with Tristan's help. He catches my hand and holds it for reassurance. It doesn't go unnoticed by me this time.

"I'm quite aware of that, but thanks for pointing that out…again. I'm not sure what I'd do without you scolding in my ear every time we talk."

"Lorelai can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

"What, no!" I plead. "Don't go, please." He squeezes my hand.

"It'll only take a minute I promise, okay? Then I'll come right back." I bite my lip and hesitantly let go.

"What if she doesn't let you come back in?" He gives me a look. If we could figure it out once, we could figure it out again.

"Just give me five minutes, baby."

"Okay." I say meekly. He smiles encouragingly to me and kisses me gently. When we break apart I see my mom seething.

"Lorelai, how about it?" She licks her lips.

"Whatever." I watch as Tristan follows her out. I'm prepared to listen carefully, but I'm startled when I see Tristan shut the door. Fuck.

"What is it that you wanted, Tristan?" Lorelai asks, vehemently. Tristan is quick to retort.

"_I_ don't want anything. Look, you don't like me. Fine I don't care. You probably don't like me by default. Whatever, I don't care about that either because quite personally, I don't like you either. In fact, you disgust me." Her eyes shoot open wide.

"You're daughter has been struggling with something for more than 2 years and you only _now_ enroll her in therapy? After her school doesn't allow her to come back? That's rich, don't you think?"

"You have no room to talk pretty boy, I am her mother."

"No, I'm talking. You can have your chance after." She makes a movement to speak again, but Tristan cuts her off. "And you're right, you are her mother which means that you have a responsibility to keep her safe. And maybe it's against people who will push her further, but I am not one of them. She hasn't taken a drink in over 5 days _because_ of what my sister and I have done for her. I know what it's like to lose someone to drugs. Hell, my mom killed herself because of it, and my sister is on the same road as her. And excuse me for saying this because Rory confided in me, but she has reasons that she doesn't want to get better." He watches as her face falls.

"What happened?"

"You'll have to ask Rory that."

"Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"Probably because you're too busy yelling at her for what a fuck up she is. And she's not, just so you know. The night she ran away from you, she asked me to help her. She asked me to be her addiction instead of alcohol and while that might not seem much better, it's a million and more times better." He waits for Lorelai to answer. It takes her a minute.

"Are you two dating now?" He nods. She looks ticked off.

"Can I talk now?" She asks.

"If you must."

"Rory is _my_ daughter, okay? Get that through your thick skull. She is not eighteen yet; therefore she is under my jurisdiction. _You_ have no place to make decisions concerning her. Fine, it may have taken me a little longer than necessary to realize she needed help, but if you think I'm just going to let her run around with you, then you are sorely mistaken." She gives him a glare. "I don't want my daughter around you. Especially because of your druggie sister and mother. You probably have drugs floating through your house on a regular basis. And what do you do? LSD? Mhmm, that's not dangerous."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, and fine, I don't care what you think. But if you think I'm going to stay away from your daughter, then you too are sorely mistaken. Someone's gotta stand up for her, and you're clearly not doing it leaving the spot open for me. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I was spending time with my girlfriend." Tristan turns on his heel and walks to the door, leaving a shocked and pissed of Lorelai in his wake.

I watch as the door opens and bite my lip. I let out an audible sigh of relief when I see Tristan enter alone. His comes and resumes his original position, lying next to me.

"What happened?" I hesitate to ask, but I have to know.

"I just stood up for you."

"Thank you." I breathe. I don't know what else to say.

"Look, I want to believe that you and your mom will become friends again—or whatever it was before you dated that last guy, but right now what I'm sensing is that she has more involvement in settling her own fears than settling yours. And yes, I'm playing devils advocate here when I say that she does care about you. She admitted to being wrong about waiting so long to take action, and dare I say it, she's being protective. I understand that too, I'm protective of Sara." I listen in silence.

"She wont let me see you. In here she has no choice, but out there…" I trail off turning my gaze to the window. He cups my cheek gently.

"Parents have never stopped me. If they did, I'd be long dead." I can't help but smile at his words.

"Where's Sara?"

"With Ryan. He's leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, I don't mean to hog you or anything."

"They've had me long enough. You need me now." Again my heart flutters. We remain in silence for a while.

I am discharged all to soon and the second I stand up I feel like my legs are going to give out. Tristan holds my hand as I walk a few steps and get re-accustomed to walking on my own. The only problem now is the heavy pounding in my head. We walk slowly out to the car. Lorelai doesn't look happy, but it seems like she's at least okay with Tristan walking me to the car. He gets into the back with me, with Lorelai up front. This is weird, they like collaborated on how I would get home.

"Have you and my mom been talking?" I whisper. He shakes his head and mouths that he'll tell me later. I accept his response for now. When we get back to the Crap Shack, Tristan once again helps me and gets me onto the couch.

"So what happened between you and my mom?" I ask almost immediately when she's out of ear shot.

"She umm, she called me this morning. Asked if I could meet her at the hospital and help bring you home."

"Why?" He shrugs.

"I have no idea, but she seemed sincere and so far everything's been okay." I nod. Bizarre. He stays for an hour or so, but then tells me he has to leave for a little bit. I don't want him too, but I let him go. He needs to see his brother before he leaves and they don't see each other for a month or so.

And that's where I am, on the couch watching TV, when Lorelai confronts me. I do a double take when I look at her. Instead of the icy disappointed look, I see distress and hesitance.

"Rory, can we talk?" Gone is her condescending tone, and in place is a voice I haven't heard in more than a year. A friendly voice. The voice of my old best friend. Based on this, I refrain from my usual quip and refrain from the bored look I put on when she talks to me usually. I nod.

"I'm not…I'm not okay with you seeing Tristan. I'm just putting that out there. But I can see the difference he's made. Everyday I see it, and it kills me to know that I couldn't be the one to do it. So for that reason, I will let you see him." Thanks mom, very kind of you. Hey, at least I'm not saying it out loud!

"I also want you to tell me what happened?" I give her a confused reason. She clears her throat. "Why don't you want to get better?" My eyes widen.

"What did Tristan tell you?" I'm going to kill him.

"Nothing, he wouldn't tell me. He fought like hell for you at the hospital. Also another reason I'm letting you see him. I wanted him to tell me, but he refused." Now she's just purely curious. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell her. I told Tristan when I barely knew him. I can't tell her so instead, I change the subject.

"Why did you call Tristan this morning?"

"Because I know how much he means to you and how much you mean to him. Over the phone this morning, he told me he's been using less since he met you also." I can't help the grin. He wasn't lying before. "I thought it might make the tension in the car a little less if he was there."

I can feel what she's talking about. The tension right now is strangling. "Why aren't you yelling at me?"

"Why would I yell at you?"

"I don't know, maybe tell me I'm a fuck up, or that I've failed." She looks like she's been struck.

"Your father went back home. You're still going to go to those meetings every week, and Chilton has agreed to allow you to come back if you continue group." My heart lurches. Chilton. Greg. Fuck. "I was making you worse. Let's face it, I was making _everything_ worse. Tristan was right. Where was I when you needed me? Why wasn't I there when it first got out of control?"

"You didn't know." I say weakly. She shakes her head sadly.

"But I did. I just thought you were being a reckless teenager. I didn't put two and two together."

"When do I go back?"

"Monday." Double fuck. That's in three days. Panic arises in me as my eyes flit around the room.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I can't go back. Please don't make me. _Please._" Tears start to pour down my face. What happened to my badass exterior? Lorelai stares at me in shock. She has never seen me like this before.

"What, why?" I don't answer, I just continue to cry. "Rory, tell me what's wrong."

And everything comes flying back. The nights I couldn't be here and I went to Greg's. The time he actually did rape me. The night I found out I was pregnant because I had a miscarriage in the toilet. "I…I…" I point towards my room and run there. I pace around my room. It smells good. It smells like home. Like flowers and cherries.

I try to keep the scent in my head, but I can't. I immediately run to the trashcan and throw up. Over and over again.

"Rory are you okay?" I don't answer. "Open the door." I don't answer. I hear a muffled sigh from the opposite side of my door. "Come out when you're ready to talk."

And it's then that I realize I can't talk. I've never been able to talk. Leaning against my wall, I raise my hand to feel around my desk for a pad of paper. I find it and pull it off. The pen on top comes plummeting down on top of me. It hits the sensitive spot on my head. I yelp and resist the urge to touch it. Then, I put pen to paper and I write a letter. Not long after, I finish and quietly tip toe out of my room. I place the letter on the kitchen table and then go back into my room. Once my door is shut, I bolt for the window, easily sliding out of it. I run to the bus stop hoping a bus is scheduled to come soon.

I imagine Lorelai once again going to my room, and when I don't answer and she doesn't hear any noise, she'll open my door and find me gone. Then she'll go to the kitchen and find my letter addressed to her. She'll burrow her eyebrows in confusion and sit down, slowly unfolding the paper to full size. Then she'll start reading.

_Mom,_

_I went to Tristan's. I can't go back to Chilton. Greg goes there. He rapes me. When I couldn't be here, I would go to Greg's. Sex for a place to sleep. He promises to get me again. Please help me. I'm begging you. I'm afraid he'll come after me sometime._

_Rory_

And I imagine her fear stricken face as tears fall, wallowing in my lost innocence. As the bus nears Tristan's house, I wonder if she's going to come find me. To protect me. I knock on Tristan's door and he immediately huddles me inside. I break in his arms and he hugs me and soothes me until the crying has subsided. And then I tell him I love him.

Yup, I tell him I love him.

And he says he loves me back.

**Helllloo. Okay this wasn't great but I like it!! Kinda. Anyway, let me know what you think! There will only be three or less chapters left, so if you can any thing you absolutely wanna see happen, tell me NOW. Kay. Thanks everyone! Mwah. Emilie**


	8. Chapter 8

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**YES, thanks to my beta, curlyk03. If you need a spell checker, she's the one to go to.**

- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 –

I wake up the next morning to Tristan gently shaking me. I slowly open my eyes and see him standing over the bed, fully dressed. I look down at my own slightly naked body. When did he change? No, a better question, when did he get out of the bed? I mumble something and stretch, yawning. I feel the skin on my face stretching from the dried tears the night before.

As I sit up, he takes a seat next to me and smoothes my hair down. "How did you sleep?" He asks me.

"Good." He smiles at me. After professing our love to each other last night, I told him, as calmly as I could, what had once again brought me here.

"Umm, before you say anything, you need to hear me out, okay?" I nod hesitantly.

"Your mom called this morning." I immediately make a sour face. "She got your note, and she says thank you for that. I, umm. She's…" I watch him take a deep breath. "She called the p—" He's interrupted by Sara running into the room.

"Tristan, they're here." He nods towards her.

"What's going on?" Tristan hands me the rest of my clothes.

"The police are here." I look to Tristan for further explanation.

"Your mom figured that would be the best way to get to you. Anyway, she wants to get Greg for whatever he did to you. She said and I quote, 'The worse that asshole gets, the better'." I look between Sara and Tristan frantically.

"I figured it was better if I came up here instead of some officers."

"You guys expect me to go?" Sara shrugs apologetically and exits.

"Babe, what he did to you…what he could do to someone else…if you're not going to do it for yourself, do it for someone else. You saying something can make a difference okay?" I swallow loudly.

"I couldn't even tell my own mother. How can I tell the police?" I can see him weakening inside. It makes me angry. I can't have something else in my life that'll break when things get worse.

"Okay."

"That's it?" He nods gravely.

"Rory, I'm not going to force you. You're extremely bright and you can make your own decisions." What the hell?

"But I couldn't when I drank alcohol 24/7?"

"Well, get real Rory, you're not cured. You never will be. But unless you wanted to die within the next few years, something _had_ to be done. And since Greg goes to a private school, I highly doubt he'll kill you if you don't turn him in. Maybe rape you, but not kill you." Something breaks inside of me and I feel a distant but familiar feeling rising. I immediately identify it and clench my teeth. I _will_ beat this.

"You're fucking supposed to stand up for me!"

"Well it's kind of hard with you being so damn stubborn all the time. Rory, I love you, okay? Don't think it doesn't kill me that you won't turn that shit bag in for doing that to you. It does. You deserve so much better than that! But I can't protect you from everything. I can't be with you every second of every day no matter how much I want to be.

"You've practically cured me, Rory. I owe you my life. I was pretty fucked up before I met you. I was perfectly happy taking drugs till I remained in oblivion for days at a time." I watch as he takes a deep breath. He's made me speechless. "You need to figure this out, Rory. No matter what, you're going back to school Monday. I can't escort you around. You can get him for raping you. You _can_ prevent it from happening to someone else."

Tears stream down my face. How did I get so lucky? "What if I can't do it? They'll make me testify and do the whole line-up thing. What if I mess up?"

"Well, that's impossible. I'll go with you, and if you ever need a moment to yourself, you just take it. Okay? Right now it's more important to get everything out than to process what you're doing. It's better if it's hard to say. That means there's fresh emotion linked with it." It dawns on me.

"You've done this before." He nods sadly.

"With Sara." I nod and wipe away the tears. I come closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck, slowly moistening his shirt. I feel his arms wrap around me, warming me with his body heat. He hugs me for a few minutes, rubbing my back, until my breathing returns to normal. I pull away slightly and wipe my eyes. I remove myself completely and put the rest of my clothes on.

I look at his outstretched hand. I watch as my hand slowly reaches out and joins with his. He nods in approval. We slowly walk down the stairs, me slightly ahead. As we get to the bottom of the stairs, I see two uniformed men standing there, looking at my expectantly.

"You're Rory Gilmore?" I nod mutely. "We're going to bring you to the hospital first, see if there's anything we can get for a rape kit. Then we'll bring you to the station and we'll begin the questioning and get your statement." I feel Tristan squeezing my hand.

"Okay. Can he come with me?" The officer's face softens.

"If you'd feel more comfortable. He's not allowed in the questioning room though." I shrug. Whatever. At this point, all I want to do is be young again. Sara hugs me tightly before I go. Everything seems like a blur. I remember seeing my mom's face, but I was never alone with her so we never talked. But I saw her face. And I wished I'd never seen it. It was like she was at my funeral. Her face was splotchy, and she held a tissue up to her face to remove tears quickly. When we arrived at the station, seeing anyone but Tristan and the police wasn't an option. It was there that I found out.

"We found only your DNA and someone else's that didn't match up to the person you said it was." I blush. It's Tristan's.

"It's been awhile since he's done anything. I was just to frightened to do anything. I'm sorry." And they took my statement and I felt the cold on my unoccupied hand. I felt the loss. It seemed like an eternity when I was finally able to leave. The minute I saw Tristan, he enveloped me in a hug and told me what a great job I did. All I could think was, 'how would he know?', but I didn't say it out loud. When we walk outside, I'm surprised to find that it's starting to become dark out. As we continue walking, a figure walks up to me. It's my mom. She stops in front of me.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. Emily would have. She would've been all over it, but as we found out, I'm not Emily."

"I just want to go to sleep, mom." She nods.

"Let's go." We get into her Jeep, and as Tristan and I disappear into my room, she doesn't say anything. She lets it happen and it's one of the best decisions she's made in a long time.

I shut the door behind us and lean against it. "It's been a long day." I mumble. He leans against my door in front of me and looks into my eyes. They're haunting and wonderful all at the same time. Then ever so slowly, he touches his lips against mine and remains there for a moment. He pulls back and cups my cheek, massaging my lips with his finger. He leans back down and replaces his finger with his lips and tongue.

I succumb to the feelings as he takes my hands and brings me to my bed. Lying me down, he massages my torso with his hands as he climbs over me and moves between my raised knees. He moves his mouth to my neck and bites and sucks the hollow part of my neck. I squirm as I feel my jeans loosening. I break away and see his hands undoing and starting to remove my jeans. I push him back and take them off myself. The next thing to come off is his shirt, then his pants, and lastly my shirt. He kisses me one last time and pulls away, biting my lip. He lets it go with a 'pop'. We climb under the covers and I burrow into his outstretched arm. No matter what, all I can think about is school. And Tristan can tell.

"Rory, it'll be okay."

"What if Greg's there?"

"Your mom called the school. They're going to keep an eye on you." She shook her head.

"I don't think that's going to work."

"Don't let yourself be alone at any point. Don't leave class until it's dismissed and don't leave class at any point. Make sure you travel with the crowds." He advises me. I nod my head against his chest and pull the covers higher around us.

"And on the off chance that something _does_ happen?" He gazes into my eyes unnervingly.

"Does your kilt have a pocket?"

"Yea."

"Set one of your speed dials as 911. If anything happens, call it. Your phone should have a locator on it. They'll be able to find you." His answer seems to soothe me and I slowly let my eyes shut. I feel him kiss my forehead and shift before he closes his eyes as well.

423

Tristan drives me to school on this dreadful day. I can't seem to think straight and all I can do is close my eyes and concentrate on breathing steadily. I feel Tristan squeeze my hand. It's been just over four months since I've attended classes and I am scared shitless. Once again, rumors will run haywire and I'll be the center of it all. _Great._ He pulls into the drive of Chilton and turns the car around the circular drop off. I'm about to unbuckle my seat belt when he pulls into a visitor parking spot.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll walk you to homeroom." My eyes widen.

"Seriously?"

"I don't have to, I just thought you might like the added security of starting the day off accompanied." My heart melts.

"Thank you." He nods.

"I'll say goodbye to you now. I doubt you'll want to once you're inside your school."

"Yea, good idea." He smiled and leaned over the middle panel to kiss me gently. He caresses my cheek and pulls away keeping his hand in place.

"Remember, 911 if anything happens. Otherwise, this should be good for you. If any urges come on…call me. Or Sara. One of us will come and help you out."

"What about Diana?"

"Ugh you can call her if you want. I personally think she's a tool, but if you like her, by all means go for it." I laugh at his face.

"I'll call you." He nods and kisses me again quickly.

"Come on." We open the doors and step out. He meets me at the back of the car and takes my hand in his as we start towards the front doors. We're accompanied by the rest of the school as they too make their way into the school. As we enter, I see him looking around, marveling at the structure and the feel.

"Not exactly the homiest school, hmm?"

"No, not really." I laugh in agreement as he follows my lead. Most of the students recognize me and I can tell by their faces. Eyes widened, mouths agape, nudges to friends, and pointing.

"This is it." We stop in front of a classroom. He nods as we enter. I scan the room. Luckily only a few students have made it so far. The fluttering intensifies as I see Paris and Louise sitting across from each other, talking about something.

"Is that…Paris Geller?" Tristan asks me.

"You know her?"

"I haven't seen her in years. Wow. I think the last time was in…1996, so it's probably been about 7 years."

"Oh my god!" At the voice, we both turned our heads. Louise was running towards me.

"Rory! Oh my god, how are you? Where've you been? Who's this?" She ended and shot a seductive look towards Tristan.

"Louise, this is my boyfriend, Tristan. Tristan, this is my friend, Louise." Louise nodded and gave me a quick hug. That was odd.

"How've you been?"

I shrug. "So, so. Been better, been far worse." I see Paris making her way over to us. She's looking Tristan suspiciously.

"Welcome back, Rory. How've you been doing? Are you okay?" I reflect on the last time I was here. When I told Paris that the reason I was no longer in school was before I was an alcoholic.

"Better than I've been in a long time." Paris nods approvingly.

"Paris, this is my boyfriend, Tristan. Tristan, this is Paris." I watch as Tristan sticks his hand out. Paris tentatively shakes it. She eyes him.

"You look familiar."

"I bet. The last name is Dugrey." A jolt of realization graces her features.

"Oh my god, it's been a long time."

"I know."

"So how do you two know each other?"

"Society." They speak at the same time. Paris glares at him, but Tristan laughs. I raise my eyebrows. My homeroom teacher comes in and she looks surprised to see me.

"You should probably go. I have to talk to my teacher." I tell Tristan. He looks at her and then at me.

"Okay. Have a good day."

"You too."

"Remember, anything and you call 911."

"I will." He smiles and starts the walk away. "Wait." I run over to him.

"Yea?"

I lick my lips. "Thank you." He smiles at me and laces his fingers through mine.

"Of course, baby." He pecks me in the lips and then leaves a lingering kiss on my forehead. "Be good." I smile as I watch him leave. I turn back and go to talk to my teacher. Sighing, I sit down and talk it out with her. Nothing personal, just my plans for coming back. She seems supportive, but you can't always tell.

The rest of the day passes moderately quickly as I leave the school and see Tristan's car sitting in the same spot it was this morning. There are hoards of students around me, so I venture to the car. I slip in and smile.

"How was the first day back?" He grins at me and kisses me over the console.

"Almost enjoyable. Although, Greg wasn't there. Paris said it's been a week since she's seen him. Maybe the police got him after all." He gives me a look. "It's just a thought." The police clearly told me they couldn't get an arrest warrant with more evidence. And evidence, they said, takes time.

"Alright, let's get you home." The conversation turns light and happy. My thoughts aren't on Greg or alcohol. I'm starting to like this new addiction.

**Hey there. It's been a while, so sorry about that. I've done most of the next chapter, so look forward to that and some drama. The next chapter is not light. Be forewarned. Anyway. Hope you guys enjoyed! Love, Emilie**


	9. Chapter 9

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: **_**MAJOR**_** REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND **_**SEXUAL**_** CONTENT.**

- 4 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3 -

Walking into Chilton on this Monday morning, I feel relaxed and at ease. I've slipped back into the swing of things and people aren't asking me questions anymore. Of course, very few of them know the truth anyway.

I'm walking down the hall, with an unusually light backpack for a Monday morning when I walk into homeroom. Going into the third trimester of school my senior year means that work has dwindled down. I guess they figure 14 or so years of school is sufficient enough to give us a nice break at the end of senior year. Maybe. School goes by fast.

Greg is still nowhere to be seen. He hasn't been in school since I got back, and while it's nice to know he's away, he has to come back at some point, right? The police can't charge him with anything either, since there's no proof and I'm said to not be a _reliable source_. So for now, he's doing as he pleases, and I'm weary of every corner I turn.

The bell signals the end of the day. Tristan said he couldn't pick me up right away, so he tells me to wait in the library. He figures that's safe. I do too, so I agree.

Finishing my homework, I go to search for some books. I could not have been any less prepared for what awaited me on the other side of that damned bookcase. Turning the corner, I feel dizziness and short of breath at the sight of Greg. There he is. Leaning pompously as usual, against a bookcase reading. I don't know where he's been these last few weeks, but I want him to go back.

I direct my eyes away from him and look at the titles. He senses the newcomer and looks up at me, a strange smirk appearing on his face when he sees me. I audibly swallow as he saunters towards me.

"Hey there. Welcome back." He annunciates every word like I'm an idiot. It gets to me. Deafens my confidence like every other time. I ignore him. I have to. Because I know, one wrong move and I'm screwed. Literally and figuratively.

"Aww come on, babe. I just got back from Miami and you're not even talking to me? Do you like my tan? I got it especially for you baby." I squeeze my eyes shut and open them, trying to tune him out.

"Yea, you should pent up all that sexual frustration for later. I bought a few movies, and some furry handcuffs. Are you into that sort of thing?" He runs a finger down my cheek. I swallow and slap his hand away.

"Enough is enough." I look at him fiercely and pull my hand away before walking away. I walk, but not quick enough. He grabs my hand and pulls me against him.

"Greg, stop!" Panic arises. My hands slam against his chest and I notice something. Along with his tan are some new, lean muscles. He's been preparing himself for this? I can't help the tears.

"Shh, baby. I don't want to hurt you." I try to scream but he squeezes my wrist harder. The pressure makes it so I can't breathe. I have no other choice. Where the _fuck_ are the librarians!? I shudder as he pulls me against him. I move my free hand to my kilt pocket and feel for my phone. I hyperventilate remembering my phone, sitting on my study table. I wanted to keep track of the time. Now time would deceive me.

He keeps his hold on my wrist as he advances towards me and pulls me into a study room. He locks the door behind us. Tears slide down my face. No, I can't do this.

"Please, don't. Please." I beg him, but just like every other time, he has no mercy.

"Baby, baby, baby. I liked you a lot better as a drunk." He pulls out a bottle of vodka and hands it to me. I refuse to take it. He unscrews the bottle and pours some into a cup. I purse my lips shut. He squeezes my nose so I can't breathe. I hold my breath until I go dizzy and I can't hold it any longer without passing out. Gasping for air, he pours the contents of the cup into my mouth and holds my mouth together. I have no choice but to swallow. The pure liquor burns my mouth as I keep it there as long as I can.

"Swallow, baby." He continues to hold my nose. Tears stream down my face as I let the liquid drop. He does this three more times before he releases me from his death grasp. He pushes me against the wall, making me hit my head. I wince and fall to the ground.

He's never done this before and I'm afraid he'll kill me. "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" The alcohol works quickly. It invades my blood and wipes out my strength. An immediate feeling of need—a repressed one—radiates throughout me.

No matter what he does to me now, I know, I will never be the same again. I try to stand up again, but he pushes me down so my head bangs against the wall again. I become dizzy and fall to the ground with a thud. I see the vodka bottle and half is gone. I don't remember the last time I drank that much. He knows he has me, so he does what he's wanted to do for months. He takes me.

_423_

Tristan continues to check his car clock. I'm a half hour late. He waits another 15 minutes before parking and entering the building. He searches throughout the halls, but the school is almost deserted. He peeks his head into an office and sees the secretary.

"Hi, I'm looking for Rory Gilmore. Do you know where I can find her?"

"No, I'm sorry. Most of the classrooms are locked, but the library, gym, and resource rooms are open." He nods and leaves, thinking it through. The gym would be the last place I would be. He walks around the school, finding the newspaper room and a few other resource rooms. He looks at the black and white photography hanging outside the darkroom before moving on.

He walks into the library and sees my stuff sprawled across a table. He sees my phone and sees that I have 7 missed calls from him. He comes to the conclusion that I haven't been there in a while. The first of those calls were when he was a few minutes away from the school.

He walks around the library, searching between bookcases for me. Nothing. He heads back to the front and sees a woman sitting at a desk on the other side of the library.

"Hi, I'm looking for Rory Gilmore. Do you know where I could find her maybe?"

"Ah, Rory. She's in here quite often. An avid reader, that one." Tristan nods.

"Did she leave? All of her stuff is still here."

"I'm not sure. I was in a faculty meeting so I just got back about 20 minutes ago. She hasn't passed by since." Tristan nods, sighing.

"When she's usually in here, does she just sit at the tables?"

"Yes, unless there's a free period. Then she goes to a study room. They're at the far end of the library. You tend to not hear the noise back there." She points. Tristan follows her hand and nods.

"Thanks." She nods and watches him walk away.

I can barely hear his soft footsteps on the carpeted floors. The alcohol has done a find job and I feel disgusting. He comes closer and I try to call out, but choke on my tears. I'm in the last room—the out of the way one—and I pray he checks all of them. I see his footsteps outside the door, but he walks away. I muster up my courage.

"No, come back." I said quietly, through my hysterical tears. He must've heard me, because he immediately turns around and looks around for my voice. "Please." I add, hoping to give him my whereabouts without using too much of my low energy.

The door opens inward and I try to move my leg, but I can't. He hits my leg with the door and I wince. Everything hurts. He pushes it open again, slowly and peers in. A haunted look appears on his face when he sees me curled up in the corner. He squeezes in through the partially opened door and comes towards me quickly. He notices the alcohol bottle immediately. He drops to the ground and gathers me in his arms.

"Shh, baby, what happened?" He tries to calm me down, but I haven't stopped crying in over an hour and I doubt it'll stop soon. "It's okay, I'm here. Tell me what happened."

"I forgot my phone. I'm sorry." was all I could say. What else could I say? I'd been raped and alcohol has been reintroduced to me. My shoulders shudder.

"What happened to the rest of the alcohol in this bottle?" He asks and points to the once filled bottle.

"I didn't want to. So badly. Oh god." A new bout of tears drench my face. My eyes feel swollen.

"Rory, what happened?" He asks me sternly. I can't stop my deep intakes of air. I fear if I don't get enough now, I might suffocate. I feel light headed. He continues to rub my back. His presence calms me slightly. Enough so that tears only trickle and I can talk without being out of breath. "Just breathe. It'll be okay." He whispers. I close my eyes but quickly open them. All I can see is Greg on top of me.

"Greg's back." I whisper. And wipe away my tears. I'm surprised by how wet my face is. I feel him stiffen underneath me.

"Rory, what happened?" He doesn't question, he demands. He knows something is wrong.

"He forced it down my throat. I couldn't breathe so I opened my mouth and he poured it in. And then wouldn't let me breathe until I swallowed. Oh god, what have I done?" I feel his pulse quicken.

"Is…is that it?" He's tentative, as he knows he should be. I shake my head and the thought brings a new wave of full-fledged tears. He holds me against him, and kisses my head. "We'll make it through this, baby. I promise." Pause. "We need to go to the hospital." I nod in agreement but I don't know how I can make it there. I'm drunk and weak. So weak.

"I can't stand." He nods and stands up. He leans down and pulls me up. I feel like a dead weight as I struggle to help him lift me up. I lean against him, holding on for dear life. He keeps his arm around my waist and I hold onto his neck. We slowly make our way to the main room. The librarian sees us and immediately stands up.

"What happened?"

"If you wouldn't mind, could you gather all of her schoolwork and follow us with her backpack to my car?" Tristan asks, evenly. She nods and we continue to walk as she zippers my bag and walks after us. He unlocks his car from his keychain and nods to the librarian. He opens the passenger door and makes sure I don't bump my head on the way in. I lean against the seat, feeling dirty, violated, and ashamed. Everything Greg wants me to feel.

I see Tristan enter the driver side and sit down quickly. He does everything quickly and without a thought. Soon, we're in the emergency entrance of the hospital. He repeats his actions as before and we slowly make our way into the emergency room. A nurse spots us and looks concerned. It's around 5pm and not that busy.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" The nurse asks.

"We need a rape kit." The nurse nods professionally.

"Have you taken a shower or used the bathroom since the event?" I shake my head.

"Alright, come on back. If no emergencies are serious, we like to do these first. Sometimes the emotional damage is worse than the physical." I'm confused but I nod anyway. How can an emergency not be serious? Isn't that kind of the definition of an emergency?

We head back and I squeeze Tristan's hand as he holds me against him while they take samples. He kisses my head and whispers encouraging sayings in my ear. About 20 minutes later, they discharge me and send the samples to a lab. I've regained some of my energy back, but the drunkenness is still a large factor.

"What am I going to do? Everything I've done as of now is shot to hell." He keeps his arm around me to help with my swaggering steps.

"You do what you did before. You get better." He says, soothingly. He helps me back into the car and before I know it, we're parked in front of my home. I wipe away the offending tears as I weakly push the door open. I feel like an invalid since Tristan has to help me so much. The stairs are impossible, so he gently lifts me bridal style. He knocks on the door with his knuckle. A few seconds and some footsteps later, Lorelai is there opening the door. She takes one look at me and assumes Tristan did it.

"I beg your pardon?" Her accusations sting.

"What did you do to her?" She demands again. Tristan scoffs.

"Please, mom." I beg. It comes out as a whiney slur. She narrows her eyes. She's seen me like this before, far to many times. She looks disgusted and moves away, letting us enter. He immediately brings me to my bedroom, which I am thankful for. She follows us and demands answers once I'm settled on my bed.

"Your face is so puffy it looks like it's been injected with collagen." She tries to break the tension.

"Greg raped me, mom." Her face turns grief stricken.

"I found her in a study room at Chilton, lying on the floor in a corner." Tristan looks upset. I reach out my arm and get his attention by hitting his leg. He turns his attention towards me and let's my hands pull him to my bed. He sits.

She pulls a chair over and sits. "Sorry, for assuming." She apologizes. "Why are you drunk?"

"He wouldn't let me breathe unless I drank. What other choice did I have? Suffocate?" I hate my slur. I was beginning to like my normal voice.

"No, no. Oh god. We need to get you to the hospital."

"That's where we came from. They sent the samples to the lab and then the lab will send the results to the police station. The hospital told Rory to write the events before she forgot." Lorelai swallows and nods. This is very difficult for her, and I know it's my fault.

"I'm sorry, mom." I mutter. No matter how hard I try, the tears just keep rolling. I can tell her heart is breaking.

"No, honey. This is not your fault at all." She tries to soothe me, but it doesn't quite have the effect that Tristan does. It's silent for a few minutes. I wipe away my tears and look between Tristan and my mom. I notice slight jealousy in my mom's eyes. I turn my attention to Tristan, who has his arm wrapped around me in a tight hug.

"What happens now?" I ask, my voice thick.

"Well, Rory, they took samples. They can charge Greg now."

"I don't fucking care about that!" I explode. Tristan and my mom both look taken aback. I shrug off Tristan's touch. "I'll make it through the rape. It's not like it's the first time it's happened. But can we focus on the fact that I'm _drunk_?" I choke on a sob and cover my eyes, ashamed.

With reservation, Tristan puts his hand on my shoulder. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you just have to start from scratch."

"It just feels so good." I whimper and let the tears fall again. The phone rings, and for some reason, it makes me cry harder. Lorelai sighs and reaches for my cordless phone.

"Hello?"

"Lorelai?" It's hard to hear the commotion.

"Yea, who's this?"

"Yes, this is Officer Gates. I'm assisting on your daughter's case."

"Right." Lorelai recognized the name.

"If you could bring your daughter down to the station, that would be great. We'd like to get her statement from today." I watch curiously. I watch her take a quick look at me. She bites her lip and stands up, leaving my room. I can still hear the hushed tones.

"It has to be today?"

"The fresher, the better."

"Officer Gates, she was raped today." She swallows over the word.

"I'm acutely aware of that, Lorelai. But why put it off until tomorrow? That way she can just deal with it all today. Why prolong the agony anymore than necessary?"

"Gives us a bit and we'll come."

"Alright, we'll see you then." I watch my mom come back into my room depositing my phone on my vanity.

"We're going to go to the station. They think you should give your statement today instead of making you relive through all of it again tomorrow." I nod, sniffing. The alcohol is quick through my blood, calming me more and more.

"Can we go now? Before I pass out?" Tristan kisses my head and I watch my mom nod. He helps me up slowly and follows her out. I'm a mess but I can hardly care at the moment.

The officers and detectives look shocked when they see my appearance. My usually composed self has nothing on this one. My uniform is rumpled, I have blood on my shirt, my face is splotchy and I'm wobbly from the vodka. They wearily go through the questioning and getting all of the details.

I'm getting sleepy and the officials can tell. I'm there for almost three hours before I can finally leave. In the car on the way home, I fall asleep. Tristan and I in the back, my mom driving. She looks into the rearview mirror to see me sound asleep.

"Almost better she's sleeping." She comments.

"I hope so." He quietly says back. He carries me into my bed and covers me. He heads back out to see Lorelai sitting at the kitchen table. She curves her finger at him.

"Come here. Sit." She points and he follows suit. "I owe you an apology." The tears gather. "I never meant for it to get this bad. I wanted everything for her. None of this was ever in her plans. She dreamed Harvard. Chilton was a way for her to achieve those dreams. Now all Chilton has given her is an addiction and physical abuse."

He took a deep breath. "I think right now, it's important to focus on getting Rory better. I don't think being raped or being an alcoholic is in _anyone's_ plans. My mom most definitely didn't want and addiction. My sister—" He was interrupted by his phone. It was Sara. "Sorry, I have to take this." He flipped his phone open.

"Hello?"

"Tristan! Hey, you called."

"Yea, where are you?"

"I was hanging out with some people, why what's up?"

"I'll explain everything, but could you come to Rory's house?"

"Is she okay?" Alarm was in her voice.

"She will be."

"Yea, give me 30 minutes." He flipped his phone shut.

"Sorry, that was my sister." Lorelai nodded.

"Are you two close?"

"We're twins." Lorelai looked awed.

"I really jumped to conclusions about you."

"I know, but it's okay." He paused. "Anyway, as I was saying, my sister was raped. By her boy—ex boyfriend. You'd be amazed at how similar my sister and your daughter are. And I wish everyday that it wasn't true. I wish…I would give my life to give my sister a better life, but if I did that…she would almost have no one. My brother's busy with his own thing. Not the same thing as a twin."

"So what happens now?"

"I don't know. All I knew before was quitting. But actually quitting life. After my sister and I turned 18, my dad hightailed his ass out. No idea where he is." They were silent.

"Do you want some coffee?"

"I'd love some." Lorelai nodded and stood up. About 15 minutes later, the house phone rang. Lorelai jumped up to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Lor, it's Christopher."

"Oh my god." She sighed and leaned against the wall.

"Are you okay?"

"Not so much. Come on by tomorrow, okay? Rory and I could use you."

His voice lowered a notch. "What happened?"

"We'll talk when you get here. Rory's fine." He let out a breath.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning then."

"Bye." She hung up the phone and sat back down.

"Thank you for finding my daughter. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't interfered. I don't want to think about it either."

"Lorelai, I love your daughter. I've seen to many people waste away from drugs. I couldn't watch someone like Rory have that happen. My last girlfriend, her name was Lara. She…suicided. She said, 'You're everything to me, but I will never have everything. You've kept me alive this long, but I need to be put to rest'. She overdosed that night on sleeping pills."

"Seems like everyone around you suicides."

"I know. I think it's because I make it my business to figure them out, to get involved. That's one of the things that attracted me to your daughter in the first place." The knock on the door interrupts them. Tristan stands up. "I'll be right back." He comes back with Sara.

"Lorelai, this is Sara, my sister. Sara, this is Lorelai, Rory's mom."

"Nice to meet you, Lorelai." Sara says and shakes her hand.

"Same." Tristan pulls out a chair for Sara. An action that doesn't go unnoticed by Lorelai. Sara sits and looks concerned.

"So something's wrong."

"Sara, Rory was…" Tristan trails off.

"Was what? Is she okay?"

"Raped." Was all Tristan could say. Sara's face fell and her hand jumped to her mouth in a gasp.

"Oh my god. When?"

"Today, at school. The guy came back."

"Where's she now?"

"Passed out on her bed. He forced her to drink alcohol."

"Shit." Sara bit her lip and squirmed in her chair. "Sorry." She apologized for her swear.

"I told Lorelai your experience—mostly."

"Yea, been there, through with that. It's…scarring. I'll talk to her when she wakes up."

"That might not be for awhile. She drank a lot." Sara nodded.

"If it's alright with you, I'm willing to stay." Sara offered. Lorelai nodded gratefully.

"This is so against my brain, but I think this is what Rory needs. My instinct is saying no, but it led us here, so—there's a pullout couch in the living room."

"We'll share it." Tristan said.

"Definitely." Lorelai nodded and stood up as did the others. She walked around and hugged them both.

"Come on." She led them to the living room and set up the couch for them.

"I'll just be upstairs. I can hear everything, so if something happens with Rory, I'll probably be the first one there."

"As it should be. Night Lorelai." Sara said and waved.

"Night."

**Meh, not my fav but it's cool. Umm a couple more chapters and I don't think this will end with rainbows and puppies. In My World did, but we'll see. Depends on my mood. Input? Suggestions? Cool. Love you all SUPER much. Emilie.**

GrlWithoutAName: I forget if I answered you. No, she was never called Mary. I didn't think it really fit very well into this story. But my next one might include some nicknames. I have to plan that one first, though.


	10. Chapter 10

Addicted

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: **_**MAJOR**_** REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Thanks to my beta **curlyk03** for always being there to bounce off ideas. This story wouldn't be possible without you!!**

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My eyes wander throughout the room. It feels different. The first time I stood here, I was looking for a friend. Someone to recognize for my return trips. Now, I wanted nothing more than to have the anonymity that the group promised.

Both Sara and Tristan are behind me, their bodies pushing me forward although neither one is physically touching me. I look through the door and see most of the usual people already sitting, some talking amongst each other.

I finally inch my way into the room and Sara takes this opportunity to move from behind me and fully walk into the room. Tristan settles his hand on the small of my back and stands directly behind me.

"Come on, babe. You can do this." He whispers into my ear.

I shake my head minimally. "I don't think I can. All I want is alcohol." I lick my lips, hoping to taste something remnant. But it fails seeing as the last drink I had was almost 2 weeks ago when I was…well…when _it_ happened.

He moves his hand from my back and grasps my hand in his, gently pulling me along with him. I feel the warmth his hand gives shooting up my arm as I drag my feet behind him.

He takes a seat in one of the chairs and points the one next to him. I bite my lip and sigh, remembering the first time I sat down. Listened to other peoples stories, and then shared my own. How I was like so many of them now. Relapsed and weak. Dammit!

Diana walks into the room, and gives me a look. She looks almost surprised to see me. I wonder why, she was called by the police after I gave a statement. She takes a seat in a chair and calls the meeting to order.

"Welcome back, everyone. I hope for most of you this weekend was progressive and perhaps even enlightening. Would anyone like to start?" A few hands raise and I watch, holding Tristan's hand in my lap. I squeeze it, and he gives me a comforting look.

As Ricket, the 14-year-old crack cocaine baby, gives his update my mind starts to wander. Greg's lean muscles, his voice, everything comes flooding through my memory and I can't push them back. I know alcohol would help me, but for some reason, I'm repulsed by the idea. I want something different.

I let out a deep sigh and shut my eyes, trying to look at Ricket through my shut eyelids. I angle my head up to the ceiling and look at the veins that the light allows me to see. I feel my heartbeat start to pick up and it scares me, sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

I let out another shaky breath and open my eyes, concentrating on my breathing, trying to calm down my pulse. But to no avail, my heart flutters faster.

"Tristan." My voice cracks quietly. My head whirls and I can't find it in my strength to stand up. In my peripheral vision, I see Tristan look at me and within a second he stands up.

"Diana, Rory and I will be back in a few minutes. She just needs a minute." Diana looks between the two of us and nods apologetically.

"Take your time." Tristan helps me up and supports most of my weight as we walk towards the door. I lean against him, and clumsily wipe away the light sheet of sweat that presented itself on my forehead. He walks me to the table and hoists me onto it. He stands between my legs and cups my face in his hands.

"Rory, look at me." I tiredly look up as I try to level out my breathing. He makes an effort to do loud steady breathing for me, trying to guide me. My lungs don't obey at first, but soon, I'm able to keep pace with him.

He removes a hand from my face and rests a finger in the groove of my neck. I can feel the hammering in my chest start to dissipate. I'm dizzy from my constant breathing.

"You're okay. Just listen to my breathing." He murmurs. My eyelids droop and I am suddenly exhausted. As my breathing levels off to almost normal, a tear slides down my cheek. He wipes it away with his free hand.

"I can't." The words don't make sounds.

"You can't what?"

"Do this." I look around.

"Of course you can, you've done it before." His blue eyes are enchanting and for a fleeting moment I think I can.

My head shakes just enough. "Let's face it, it's worse than before. Before…it was a trade. This time, he just…he wanted to hurt me. How can I survive that?"

"Rory, I want you to listen to me, okay?" He doesn't wait for a response. "You are one of those people that everyone loves. You're kind, sweet, funny, beautiful…emotions don't come easily to me. My mom killed herself when I was eleven. At the time, there was no one I loved more than her. I'm responsible for Sara's drug use. I did it before anyone else in my family did. She was interested and tried it. I often feel like I'm not worthy of people's love. But Sara has never shown me anything less than appreciation. Your mom was scared, but she _loves_ you. People will love you, no matter what mistakes you make. You have to let yourself beat this. Don't dwell."

I nod, but I know that almost everything he's said has gone in one ear and out the other one. I think he knows too.

"What if I can't beat it? What if…what if I relapse again?" I wipe away my tears when something hits me. I'm relying on someone else to stabilize my emotions. Ever since Tristan and I got together, I've made him aware of everything. And all of a sudden I realize I'm weaker than I've ever been. Shit.

"You never stop fighting, that's what." As I listen to his words, I get more angry at myself.

"Tristan?' My voice is weak, but inside I feel nothing but rage.

"Yea?"

"Wil you take me home?"

"Of course. I always do."

"No, I mean right now."

"You want to skip the meeting?" He looks skeptical. This isn't normal behavior for me and he knows it. Tough shit. My 'bamf' attitude returns and sends a welcome surge of power through me.

"Yea, I just need some fresh air." He nods in comprehension even though there are creases on his forehead from worry. He grips my arm and helps me down. We slowly walk to the car as he texts his sister with his free hand. We arrive at my house and he turns off the car.

"Are you coming in?" I try not to let my fear seep into my words. He doesn't seem to notice it.

"If you don't want me too, I wont."

I clear my throat. "I don't care, I'm just doing to take a nap. I don't want to waste your afternoon. Plus you have to get Sara."

"Alright, let me at least walk you to your door." I nod and exit the car, joining hands with him as he meets me on the other side. We walk to the door hand in hand. We stop right outside and turn to each other.

He pulls me closer and cups my cheek. I look up at him and he leans down, kissing me gently. I lose myself in the kiss and clamp my hands onto the front of his shirt, pulling myself against his warm body. My hands move around his neck and pull him even closer. My mouth is melded against his as I open my mouth to taste him. He rubs my side and then pulls away slowly.

"I love you." I whisper, desperately. With the thoughts of my unspoken plans clouding my mind, it's the least I can do.

"I love you too. I'll call you later, okay?" I nod. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and walks back to his car. I take a deep breath and enter my house. I lean against the door until I hear his car start and drive away. I wait until I can't hear it anymore.

I walk slowly to my room and pull my phone out of my pocket. I go through my contact list until I find the right one and press the 'send' button. After one and a half rings, the person picks up.

"Yea?"

"Penn? It's Rory."

"Rory! It's been awhile. What's up?"

"Umm, just wondering, are there any gatherings coming up?"

"There's one tonight, actually. Wanna come?"

"What stuff do you have?"

"The works. You want something, I got it, babe. Anything in mind? Rob's bringing purple haze."

Something constricts in my chest. "I'll be there at 7."

"Right on. Welcome back, Ror." It makes me smile when I hear his words. I hang up the phone and look at the clock. It's just after 5. I get my stuff together and leave for the bus. When I don't get off at Tristan's stop, the driver knows what's happening.

As we near my stop, I walk to the front and catch the driver's weary glance.

"I thought you were past all of this nonsense."

I sigh. "I'll never be." Are my parting words as I get off the bus and walk the ½ block to the house. I knock on the door and Penn answers. He grins at me and let's me in.

"You look good. Not shit faced, though. Come on, let's fix that." He shuts the door behind me and I can't help but smile at all of the familiar faces. They welcome me with open arms. Just like the drugs do.

The buzzing of Tristan's phone disturbs him from reading. He looks at his clock. It's after 11pm. Thinking it's me, he doesn't bother to check the caller-id.

"Hey, I was worried about you! Where've you been?"

"It's Lorelai." He makes a puzzled face. He didn't realize she had his number.

"Hi."

"So she's not with you then, is she?" Her voice sounds defeated.

"No, she's not home?"

"No, I've been home since 7 and I've called her numerous times but she isn't picking up."

"I dropped her off at home around 5. She said she was going to take a nap. She wanted to be alone…I…shit. Where would she go?" She can hear the panic in his voice as he thinks everything over.

"I have no idea." He voice drops and he can hear a faint sob.

"I'll be over in a few minutes. We _will_ find her." He promises her, but he knows I have a whole separate world neither of them knows about. He knows the chances of them finding me without my help is slim to none and that scares him even more.

I feel the buzzing in my pocket again and I whip out my phone.

"They keep calling me!" I whine, exhilarated. I press the ignore button and put it on silent. "There, no more botherers." I pronounce with care. My annunciation sends me into a fit of giggles. Penn grins lazily at me and sends out an 'o' of exhaled smoke. He passes the joint to me and I take a deep breath. It's been a long time since I've done this and it feels amazing.

The smell of alcohol does nothing for me anymore. I've found a new favorite. Whippets.

A few hours later, I'm incoherent. Everyone is passed out around me. My head shifts and I wince as a shot of pain tears through my scalp. I move my arm slowly and feel something wet on my head. I bring my hand back and see that it's covered in blood. My eyes roll as I stare at my hand like it doesn't belong to me. I'm aware of a slow trickle of liquid on my neck and I'm scared to know it's my blood. My breathing is impaired and I feel myself getting weaker.

I pick up my phone and dial the first number I see.

"Rory! Oh god, where are you?" The voice comes immediately.

"Help." I breathe. I manage to say the address before the blackness takes me. The last thing I remember is my bloodied hand streaking against my shirt. What seems like moments later, I hear a door opening and screams.

"Tristan." I mumble. I can't keep consciousness.

_Step out the door and it feels like rain_

_That's the sound, that's the sound on your window pane_

_Take to the streets but you can't ignore_

_That's the sound, that's the sound you're waiting for_

_If ever your world starts crashing down_

_Whenever your world starts crashing down_

_Whenever your world starts crashing down_

_That's where you'll find me_

_Yeah, God loves your soul and your aching bones_

_Take a breath, take a step, meet me down below_

_Everyone's the same, our fingers to our toes_

_We just can't get a ride, but we're on the road_

_If ever your world starts crashing down_

_Whenever your world starts crashing down_

_Whenever your world starts crashing down_

_That's where you'll find me_

_Lost 'till you're found_

_Swim 'till you drown_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Love 'till you hate_

_Strong 'till you break_

_Know that we all fall down_

_If ever your world starts crashing down_

_Whenever your world starts crashing down_

_If ever your world starts crashing down_

_That's where you'll find, find me_

_Lost 'till you're found_

_Swim 'till you drown_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Love 'till you hate_

_Strong 'till you break_

_Know that we all fall down_

_All fall down, we all fall down_

_All fall down, we all fall down_

_We all fall down, all fall down_

_Lost 'till you're found _

_Swim 'till you drown_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Love 'till you hate_

_Strong 'till you break_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Oooo oooo..._

**AN: It's been awhile, huh? Sorry. It's hard to keep going with a story when you've lost momentum. I want more reviews. I put too much research and time into this story. Anyway, let me know what you think! I hope you liked it, and sorry if it's quite OC and AU. Do your thing.**

**The song is called "All Fall Down" by Onerepublic and I DO NOT OWN IT. It is not mine, no legal rights here. Just there for enjoyment and a mood setter. ******


	11. Chapter 11

Addicted

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: **_**MAJOR**_** REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**GAhh! Many thanks to the wonderful Kiki aka **_**curlyk03**_** for being so wonderful and so open to drugs and medicine and life. You rock!**

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"Friends, family…we gather here to mourn the loss of a beautiful soul. She will always be in our hearts as a fighter, a strong being, and a dear friend to all." People are holding tissues to their faces to quickly capture any tears that fall. I wonder if my funeral would be like that—cliché and a sob-fest. I click off the TV and close my eyes. It's not hard to fall back into unconsciousness. All I want to do is sleep; my head assures me of that.

I'm curious as to how long I've been in here. When you're encompassed within 4 white walls and the only actual outside communication you have is with a TV that only has 5 stations, time seems to be inferior.

I let my eyes flutter shut again; glad to hide behind the blackness my eyelids keep over me. I keep my eyes clamped shut as I hear the doctor enter. I feel his gentle touches checking me over.

"Rory?" I let my eyes open. "How are you feeling today?"

I shrug. The blackness of these last few days has left me alone to think. "Tired, sore."

"That's to be expected. You did quite the damage to yourself."

"I can handle it." The doctor looks at me and sighs. He pulls over a chair and sits down.

"I know you _think_ you can handle it, but you're only human. Our bodies react to the things we put into them, and many of the things you consumed are harmful. That's why they're called drugs. Because they alter something in our bodies to make us feel a certain way."

"I know what drugs do, I'm not stupid." I sent my words right back.

"I think when you know the damage you have caused you will realize that you're not quite as invincible as you think are."

I roll my eyes. "Then what have I done, _doc_?"

"You don't care, do you?" He looks surprised. He pauses a moment. "I wonder what happened to you that caused this. I can't imagine feeling something so powerful that would make someone do that."

"This, that…what are you talking about?"

"You were almost dead when you came in here."

"I'm fine now." I point out. I watch him shake his head. "I'm not fine?" I bait him.

"As I said before, you have done serious damage."

"Well, then tell me already." I'm growing tired again.

"Before I go into detail, the good news is that you'll live." He put his hand up to stop my interruption. "The bad news is that if you do anything remotely close to what you did a few days ago, you _will not_ make it through. You're going to be weak for a while. You've had a liver transplant as well as a blood transfusion. You went into cardiac arrest twice. You have a concussion, had your stomach pumped and we managed to stop some internal bleeding. Would you like me to go on?"

He doesn't look happy at the shock he's caused on my features. Instead, he looks sad. I shake my head as much as I can without hurting the stitches I know I have on my scalp. I clear my throat. "How did all of that happen?" I can't help but my let my curiosity come through.

"Well, we're not exactly sure what you took, but whatever it was created a nasty combo. Some of those street drugs are laced. Some just can't be taken with other drugs. Alcohol has fatal effects when mixed with many things. Your liver was already weak from the alcohol abuse. Whatever you did made your liver stop working."

I swallow. This is serious. "Is that common?"

"No. I've seen it in alcoholics before, but they'd been drinking for over a decade. You're what? 18? You've been doing this, what? 3 years? It's shocking that it's progressed so quickly." I'm not used to people being this frank with me. Usually I'm the one being blunt and honest. One of my personal philosophies is that the truth hurts. I never realized quite how much it could.

For the first time in my life, I know I'm not all right. I thought I knew that before, but this feeling is too painful and overwhelming. I look at the IV in my arm. I wonder what they're giving me.

"Is my mom here?"

"She's been contacted." He said hesitantly.

"But I've been here for more than a day." I point out stupidly. He probably wants my hospital bed back too. He probably has patients he'd rather treat.

"Oh, she's been here. She's just not here now. She's been contacted that you're awake." The fear that was growing inside of my stomach suddenly vanished. Needy, needy, needy.

"Do you know if she's coming now?"

"I'd assume so. But there is a young man named Tristan who hasn't left in the waiting room."

"Tristan." I breathed. "Am I allowed visitors?"

"Briefly. You need your rest."

"May I see Tristan?" The doctor nods.

"Rory, before I go, I just want to you to know that you're not the first troubled young adult I've seen come in here unconscious and right outside of deaths doors. You have to let those who love you take care of you, okay? _Don't_ push them away when you think you're strong enough because just when you think you're at your strongest, everything can come crumbling down." I think about his words and apply them to the situation I'm in now. That's the exact reason I'm in the hospital. I thought I was strong enough to do this without my loved ones.

A tear cascades down my cheek and the doctor quickly hands me a tissue before leaving my room. How is it possible to feel strong but utterly lost at the same time? I take a few deep breaths and calm myself down. A few minutes later, a soft knock resounds on my door. I watch the handle turn and someone slowly open the door. I see Tristan's blonde hair before anything else.

He shuts the door behind him and looks at me before walking over. He doesn't bother to sit, an action I notice silently.

"You're awake." I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Shouldn't he already know that?

"So it seems."

"I'm not sure what to say, Rory. You make it unbelievably impossible for people to want to help you." I look away from his gaze. His accusations are dead on and they hurt. There's my philosophy again.

"Say you forgive me."

He laughs although it sounds hollow. "For what? For basically killing yourself?"

"I guess that's one way to put it." I mutter.

He swallows and sits down on my bed.

"What happened?" I ask, softly.

"With what?"

"After you left me at my house…what happened? I can't remember anything." I feel ashamed of asking, but I know he'll tell me.

"I called you, you didn't answer. Lorelai called me asking if you were with me. And then we waited for _something_. You called me, managed to give me the address—although you only partially had it right, and then I carried you out, drove you to the hospital and here you are now."

"And my head?"

"You fell on a cracked beer bottle." I wince as the scenario.

"Thank you."

"For?"

"For saving me." I whisper it. 'Thank you' seems like a foreign pleasantry to me.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at here."

"If it weren't for you, I'd be dead."

"Yes, well it seems like that's going to be the case anyway, doesn't it?" He says it harshly, but I know I deserve it.

"I—"

"You told me you were in this 100 percent. I trusted that. No one can help you if you're not willing to help yourself. What am I doing here, Rory? It's clear that you have no hope and no desire to figure things out and get back on track. You had a fucking _liver _transplant. You died on that table, Rory. Cardiac arrest…you know, that means your heart stops beating?" I've never seen him like this and it scares me. Tears start streaming down my face.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, Rory. Me too." He sighs and shakes his head making his voice into a soft murmur again. "This doesn't affect just you. You have no idea how fucking scared I am for you. I have never felt this way about someone before. When I carried you out of that house…I…I'm going to be honest with you. If you die, I die. Get it?" I do and it frightens me. I reach out my hands and grasp his in mine. I pull him towards me. He looks so defeated.

"Tristan?"

"Mm?"

"The words thank you don't seem to express how grateful I am for you. But because they're the only words I can think of, thank you." He nods and kisses my forehead.

"I love you baby, so much. I don't want to yell at you, but I'm scared shitless." He cups my cheek and absorbs himself in my lips. He tastes wonderful and I can't help but need more of him. I reach my hands around his neck and pull him closer, massaging his tongue against mine. He moans and pulls back, moving my hair out of my face. We stare at each other for a few minutes, not moving.

I let out a shaky breath. "Tristan?"

"Yea?"

And then I speak the words I never thought I would. "I think I need professional help."

**AN: That shouldn't be a cliffhanger…just letting you know. My beta said it could be, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I know it was kind of short, but I hate leaving cliffhangers. TV shows are the worst because you have to wait months to see the continuation. Grr. ******** Anyway, thank you everyone who reviewed last chapter. It means SO much to me, you have no idea. Anyway, reviews are drugs—healthy organic ones, so feel free to let me have them!! Thanks! Love, Emilie**


	12. Chapter 12

Addicted

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: **_**MAJOR**_** REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Thanks to curlyk03 for betaing this for me! I owe her many nights of sleeping. Hehe, sorry!!**

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"Remember, if you don't like her, you can always try someone else." Lorelai reminds me, yet again.

"Mom, she's fine. I've only seen her twice. I can't tell yet." I'm slightly frustrated.

"I know, I just don't want you to feel trapped or anything, okay?"

"Yea, I got it." She pulls up to the house and I get out as soon as I can. 15 minutes alone in the car with my mother is not my idea of fun.

Ever since my stunt a week and a half ago, I've been struggling with drugs more than I ever have. I force myself to sleep close to 15 hours a day just so I have that many hours less that drugs are tempting me.

"Are you seeing Tristan today?"

"I don't think he really wants to see me, mom." After that day in the hospital, things haven't been the same. His usual carefree and tempting self seems to be guarded. This past week it seems like he sees me more out of duty than want.

I can try and tell myself that I don't need him, but I know I do. It's a biting realization.

"I'm sure that's not true. You made a mistake." I give her an incredulous look. What the hell?

"I basically tried to kill myself. I'm not sure if you remember, but before I got any kind of help you treated me like a piece of shit and I wasn't nearly as bad as I am now. You treated me like a pariah, almost. Something that had to be _dealt_ with."

I felt a twinge of regret as I watch her face fall. "I will always be in your debt for doing that, Rory. But he seems to understand you, this, better than I ever have. Maybe he'll stick by you still." I don't answer. "There's only one way to find out." She holds out the phone to me. I shake my head and walk past her to my room. I shut the door and lie down on my bed.

_FLASHBACK_

_The beeping of the machines does nothing for my frazzled nerves. I wake up to the constant stroking on my check. My eyes open to see Tristan leaning over me._

"_Welcome back." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes._

"_How long was I asleep for?"_

_He shrugs. "About 14 hours." I can imagine. I don't feel like I'm suffocating from exhaustion anymore._

_I take his hand in mine. "What happens now?"_

"_Well, presumably you get help and they figure out what to do with you."_

"_No, I meant…what happens with you and me?" I stop breathing waiting for his answer._

_He sighs. "What do you think?"_

"_Are you giving up on me?"_

"_Not unless you give up on yourself first." I shake my head quickly._

"_Are we okay?"_

"_I don't think so." He admits truthfully._

"_Will we ever?" I hate the meekness of my voice, but I can't help it. I'm scared. There, I said it. I'M SCARED._

"_We'll see."_

_END FLASHBACK_

I go to the coffee table and take out a piece of gum. My mom is sitting on the couch reading a magazine.

"Will you drive me to group?"

"Now?" I nod mutely. "Yea, come on." She follows me back out. It's a silent car drive. "What time should I come back?"

"I'll call you." I show her my phone as evidence. She sighs but doesn't say anything. I climb out and see a couple of people walking in. I recognize them from my previous times. I walk into the room and see most of the seats already filled. There's a somber tone today, and I sit down hesitantly.

I turn to the woman next to me. "What happened?"

She gives a sad smile and shakes her head. "Ricket…he passed away this weekend." My eyes go wide as I think about the then 14 year old who tried so hard week after week to be better. To get better.

"What happened?"

"He just couldn't take it anymore is what I hear. The temptation was too great." I don't notice my hand shifting to my mouth in shock. Wow. Immediately, my mind starts to shoot around thoughts, scenarios, and my own downfalls.

Diana calls the meeting to session. I look up and notice that the room is more full than usual. There are only 3 or so leftover chairs while there are usually around 10.

I scan the circle and sure enough, Ricket is nowhere to be seen. I do, however, see Tristan and Sara. Neither is looking at me. I wait a minute and they both diligently keep their gaze away.

"It gives me great pain to mourn for the loss of this kindred soul. Many of us knew Ricket as a powerful, determined young man, eager to kick his weaknesses in the behind. I know he will be severely missed by many, and I'd like it if we could take a moment of silence for him now." I watch the heads around me tuck as I do the same.

I close my eyes imagining the boy in my mind. He always seemed to be thinking, trying to understand why the world is like it is.

Diana's voice pulls us out pf our own thoughts. "I'd like to take this opportunity to talk about this." All eyes are on her. "I'm not asking for anyone to come forth, but I know many of you have faced a battle much like Ricket. After an amount of time trying to bypass that craving, ignore the temptation, push through those hard times, we face two roads. When we make it through, we praise whatever looks over us whether it is a god, another greater power, or just the love from those we know for keeping us alive. When life has the other road for us, we bow our heads and learn.

"Know that even the toughest fall sometimes. We think, 'oh, I haven't done this in awhile I'm okay now', or 'even if I'm around it, as long as I don't do it I'll be fine'. We sometime set ourselves up, maybe without knowing it, for failure. For those of you who have stared death in the face or made it through with only a shred of dignity, we're so glad you're still here. So take this sad news as a sign. A sign that we all stumble sometimes. Keep your friends close and your loved ones closer. I know, a slight change in the expression but it works just the same." She takes a breath and smiles. "Now, does anyone have anything they'd like to share?" She scans the room.

I look around and realize everything's blurry. I wipe my eyes and I'm surprised to feel my cheeks soaked with my tears. I didn't even realize I started to cry. What surprises me even more is that I feel my hand raise—betraying me.

Diana looks just as surprised. She gives a nod in my direction. "Rory." I wipe my face on my sleeve and look at the waiting face. Some are trying to hold in their tears, others have some falling, and a few look passive.

"Umm about a week and a half ago, I…'stumbled'. I just learned about Ricket today, and I can't understand how this happened to him. I would come here week after week and wonder how he could do it. But he was doing it. So well. So much. Anyway my doctor at the hospital told me I was practically dead when I was brought in. He basically told me my quality of life was screwed." I had to pause to steady my shaky breathing. "I always prided myself on being strong and alcohol was what kept me strong. So why did I end up at a guy's house that I hadn't seen in months and rip my head open on a cracked beer bottle after I passed out? Why did I hurt the one person who's helped me through all of this?"

"Your mom loves you, Rory. No matter what." I give her a strange look. My mom? Huh?

"I was talking about someone else. I love him so much and I know now that other people rely on me now. I hurt him when I chose to be left alone. When I chose to fuck up everything we'd work so hard to get through." I bit my lip as more tears fell. I vaguely noticed the tissue that was passed to me. "I just wish he'd understand how incredibly sorry I am, and how broken I am inside. I need to be fixed." My eyes met his. "I'm working on it. I've seen a professional twice now in the last week. And I won't stop getting help until she Okays me." I sniffed back some tears and wiped my eyes again. "I can't live knowing that I disappointed you." Diana looks confused, as do most of the people in the room. But even so, even more have tears falling now.

"I'm not disappointed in you. Never disappointed. I'm scared for you."

"You forgive me?"

He nods. "Always." I can't help but run to him. People look confused, but I don't care. He stands and wraps me in his arms. I hear people 'awing' and clapping in the background but I don't care.

"I love you, Tristan. Give me another chance?"

He kisses my hair. "Of course." He pulls away. "100 percent in?"

"110 percent in." He smiles and kisses me gently. I hear a quiet 'damn'. I turn and see Sara grinning at me. She stands up and gives me a hug too.

"Thank you for sharing, Rory. You're very brave to trust us with this." Diana smiles encouragingly. I can't help but notice how real it looks. And I realize, it's usually just a face but now, it's real. I look back to go to my seat but see that it's gone. I look around confused before I see an open chair next to Tristan. Everyone had moved down a chair. Again, wow.

I take Tristan's hand in mine and sit down. He never let go for the whole meeting. Even when he drove me home he didn't let go. As he tells me later, he's never letting go.

Wow.

**A/N: So that was a sad chapter, huh? Sorry if it's weird and…doesn't sound good. It was really hard to write this. Anyway, I'm going to say just 1 more chapter left. Possibly 2. Probably 1. I hope you all enjoyed this! Review please. Love, Emilie.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Addicted**

**Slightly423psychotic**

**I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.**

**T – PG13**

**WARNING: **_**MAJOR**_** REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.**

**Many, many thanks to **_**curlyk03**_** for being a super beta and letting complain about inconclusive research I did for this story. Hehe, she's wonderful!**

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I take my thick black Sharpie and make an X through yet another day.

Today is day 57.

I take a cleansing breath and turn towards my mirror. I smooth down my uniform for the 3rd time this week. It's been just under a month that I've been back in school and I can't say I'm comfortable here still. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I was rap—was forced to do something I didn't want to do.

My cheeks have gotten some color back, but I still look empty. I look at a photo that was taken of my mom and I a few years back, before any of this started, and the difference is startling. My cheeks are plump and red, my eyes are bright and alluring. Looking at myself now, my cheeks are sallow and a funny mixture of yellow and the red that is starting to return. My eyes—swirls of worry and despair. I have never felt something as physically exhausting as not being allowed to drink alcohol.

I walk to the kitchen and see a cup of hot coffee waiting on the table for me. It's something my mom swears by. I used to also…before I threw myself off the deep end. I bring the mug to my lips and inhale the strong aroma. It feels good on my dry throat. A little hot, but it feels good.

As I'm almost pouring the liquid down my throat, my mom walks into the kitchen. I give her a small smile against the mug and watch her pour her own cup.

"Getting a late start?" She asks.

"Just trying to get into my normal routine again, I guess. It's hard to remember what it was like." And it is. I don't even remember most of my mornings—at least I hadn't before. I was too wasted to know anything.

"Rory, I just…I'm proud of you, okay?" She catches my attention. "I know I've done most of this wrong and for that I apologize. But I will never regret pulling you temporarily out of Chilton and putting you in that rehab program."

I furrow my eyebrows. Has she gone insane? I was at my worst when both of those things took place. True, I still attend meetings every so often to keep on track, but now I've escaped the worst part—the withdrawal—mostly.

"Have you found my secret stash and loaded up so I didn't have to?" She scowls at me. "To soon to joke? Okay. I don't know what you mean."

She pats a chair. I look from the chair to her and back again.

"Mom, I don't have time to sit and chat. Remember? I have to get into college still."

"This won't take long." I sigh and roll my eyes. Nothing ever takes a short amount of time when it comes to her.

"No, I have to go. As you said, I'm already getting a late start. I'll see you later mom!" I put my empty mug in the sink and start to leave the kitchen.

"I don't regret it because it caused you to meet Tristan." I stop at her words. "He has done more for you than I ever have—in all of your 18 plus years of living." I turn and smile, happy with my mother's words. I give a small wave and leave.

It's mid morning when I enter my health class. They think since seniors are getting ready for college, _now_ is the appropriate time to talk about the effects of drugs and sex and any consequences that may come with it.

I sit next to Paris and sigh, taking out my notebook. There's going to be a test at the end. If you fail the test, you fail the course. Not sure what they would do if you fail, though, seeing as you will have already graduated by the time they can do anything about it. I look to the side. Not even Paris is taking notes. Weird. I have definitely missed a lot.

Students fill the rest of the seats and soon after the teacher—well she's actually one of the crotchety gym teachers—enters and calls us to order.

"Alright, class! Today you're going to see a film about drinking." I freeze. A movie all about alcohol? I hadn't been anticipating _this_. "Mr. Swanson, _take_ that iPod out of your ears _immediately_! You _know_ the rules!" Like a cliché, we all turn to him to watch him take out his ear buds with a sour look on his face. "I would suggest you take notes. This will be on your examination, _Mr. Swanson_. I can see your mouth moving." She continues on for a few more moments before the room goes black.

I shakily raise my hand. "Ms. Plait?"

"Yes, Miss. Gilmore?"

"Would it be alright if we left a light on?" I shrink in my chair as I watch her face contort into some ugly, unrecognizable shape. Without the alcohol, I don't feel my usual confidence against teachers.

"It's a movie, Miss. Gilmore. When was the last time you went to the movie theater and watched a movie with the lights _on_?"

"Never, but—"

"Ah ah, you're holding up the movie. There will be enough light from the film to see your notes." She halts what would be my next question; without the light, I can't see what I'm writing in my notes. I sulk into my chair and bite my lip. This could only end badly.

The film starts and within seconds, blurry images of teens drinking and partying comes onto the screen. I swallow loudly.

The images start to become crisper as the camera focuses on bottles and bottles of alcohol. Tequila, vodka, beer, everything. My eyes focus on the raspberry Smirnoff bottle. Fuck. Immediately my foot starts to shake as a need washes over me. I take a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out.

"Ms. Plait?" I struggle.

She looks deadpanned. "Now what?"

"I don't feel well, may I go to the nurse?"

"No, you'll be fine just sitting there. There's only 30 minutes left."

30 minutes.

30 minutes of constant alcohol tempting.

Fuck.

I feel Paris' gaze on me and shut my eyes tightly, trying to monitor my breathing like I've done with Tristan so many times before. I feel Paris' hand cover mine and squeeze it gently. I sing songs in my head, but nothing makes the movie sounds go away and nothing can calm my new insatiable need.

I fist a clump of my hair in exasperation as the voice drones on. I feel a few strands get pulled loose from my scalp.

Alcohol this, alcohol that.

Oh how I want it. So, so badly. I hardly notice when the lights flicker on. Only do I look up from my palms when Ms. Plait speaks.

"On Thursday we'll be learning about sex! Don't forget to bring your bananas!" Ugh, gross. How can she be _excited_ about that? I pay her no mind as I rush to get out, tripping over my own shoe. I hit the doorframe with my shoulder on my way out, but I don't pause to investigate my pulsing shoulder.

I run to the bathroom getting many dirty looks from passerby's. Fuck them. I turn on the faucet and wash my face, hoping to dilute my head from the images that have just scarred me. It does nothing. I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Tristan.

_HELP!_

I hope he gets it soon. I brace myself on the wall as I walk out. I have 45 minutes until lunch. I slowly make my way next door into my Calculus class. But not even the logarithms and complicated numbers can pry me away from my funk.

It doesn't help that I'm imagining the liquid gliding down my throat causing my throat to feel that oh so familiar burn. That warm feeling that spreads throughout your body. My throat begs for the warmth, my brain for the depressant.

When the bell rings, I catapult myself out of my seat and race towards the cafeteria. Maybe if I drink some coffee that will settle this. I keep my head ducked and walk quickly, bumping into people on my way, murmuring apologies to unsuspecting students.

One catches my arm in his hand and pulls me back. I turn to yell.

"Let go!" I look up and go wide-eyed. Tristan is standing there holding a plastic bag. I let out a deep breath of relief when I see his concerned eyes and launch into his arms. He hugs me tight.

"It's okay." Her murmurs into my hair as I squeeze my body against his. I don't notice the staring students passing us. When I can move my muscles again, I pull away. "Come on, let's go talk." He says somewhat softly. I nod and lace my fingers through his as we walk outside to the courtyard. We sit on a bench and I curl into his chest as his arm wraps around me.

"Wanna talk about it?" I shake my head.

"Maybe in a little bit." He nods and hands me a pill. I close my eyes in relief. I have never been so happy to see drugs. He pulls out a bottle of Coke and uncaps it for me. I take a swig of the soda and down the barbiturate. First time in 3 weeks that I've needed one. Major progress.

"Are you hungry? I brought you a hamburger. I figured you'd be okay in class, but I knew I had to get here for your lunch." He knows me too well. I nod and shakily take the sandwich from him. He watches me take a few bites from it. It tastes good and semi distracts me as the pill takes effect.

"Talk to me, please." I say softly, through a mouthful.

"I'm not sure if this is the time to bring this up, but I think you should know." He starts. My stomach drops as I freeze with my hamburger midway to my mouth. He shakes his head immediately at my frozen state. "It's not bad, I promise. I think you'll actually be happy."

I give him a confused look. "Will I choke if I continue eating this?" I ask. He laughs.

"No, Rory. It's nothing shocking or…anything like that. I'm just thinking about going back to school."

His words startle me. "School? Like high school?"

"High school? No, silly. My teachers would faint if they saw me again. You know how teachers always say, 'come back and visit'? Well mine basically said, 'stay away'." He grins at me. I can't help but smile and take another bite.

"So college then?"

"Yea. Drugs just consumed me I guess. After winter break last year, I just had no desire to do anything else so I dropped out."

"Then why do you have the desire now?"

He takes a deep breath. "Do you remember the first time I kissed you? At the fair?" I nod. "You told me I made you want to be better and get better. You've had a similar effect on me as well. Except LSD is a little easier to get over." I look at him in awe. "Don't give me that look! You did the same thing. You even admitted it before we started dating." I smile at the truth in his words. I crumple up the empty wrapper from my burger and stick it in the bag on the ground.

"I never knew you actually quit all of that stuff. I just figured you were being smarter about it." He cupped my cheek.

"I figured if you were going through all of that for me, I could go through it too. Especially when yours is a lifelong struggle." I lean toward him and kiss him. He smiles against my lips and pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. I feel him kiss my jaw and up to my ear. "I'm proud of you baby." He whispers. I melt against him, no will to let go. I feel his hand rubbing my back as I push against him to sit back up.

"I'm proud of you too. And for taking me in stride." He smirks.

"How're you feeling?" I take a moment and relax when I feel everything a little slower than normal.

"It's working." He nods at my approvingly.

"So you wanna tell me what happened today?"

"We watched a movie on drinking in health today."

"Shit." His eyebrows raise. "I guess that's something kind of unavoidable." He tucks my hair behind my ear.

"Yea, we're talking about sex next class." I give him a look.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm glad everyone in your school is innocent enough to stay virgins until at least senior prom." He says, deadpanned. I laugh at his sarcasm. "I mean, really…there's nothing like waiting till the last minute." There's a comfortable lull in our conversation. The barbiturate has started taking full effect and I suddenly feel a little drowsy. I take in Tristan's lean form, incredibly close to mine. His protective arms send a rush through me.

The topic of sex has never been broached. It has never come up without the mention of Greg. I'd have to be comatose to not feel _that_ kind of attraction to Tristan, but it scares me.

The woman I've been talking to says it'll feel different if I do it with someone I love. Maybe…but at this point I'll be sober when doing it. That in itself scares me.

And seeing Tristan here, so willing to help me, has me falling in love with him all over again. Why do I feel so naked all the time?! Isn't love supposed to be mushy and protective?

Drunk Rory would know what to do. This Rory? She has no clue. _I_ have no clue. No fucking clue and it scares me.

"Rory?" He waves his hand in front of my face. What was I even rambling on about anyway?

"Mhm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yea, just thinking."

"What about?"

I blush. Having sex with you. "Things." I answer evasively.

"Alcohol?" He's tentative with his answer.

"For once I can honestly say I wasn't thinking about that." He waits. "I was thinking about you."

"Me?"

"You're a guy."

"Uh huh." He looks at me for a moment. "You know, most girls would have gotten over that fact when the relationship started."

I ignore him. "Isn't there some kind of statistic that men think about sex every seven seconds or something?"

He blinks. "Are you trying to set me up or something?"

"No, I just…you haven't thought about it with me?" His eyes widen at my implications.

His mouth opens and closes a couple of times. "Of course I've thought about it, but it hasn't been a priority really."

"But you want too?" I hate this tentativeness. Blunt used to be so easy and…_right_.

"Are you actually present when we make out? I thought my hard on after some of those sessions would have made it obvious to you." Duh, Rory.

"I want to give you that—me—I'm just not ready. Okay?"

"I know, which is why I haven't pushed it. Take it easy…it's been a tough time going for you."

"You don't have to answer this, but I thought since you knew my…history, I should be able to know yours."

He looked at me for awhile. "Yes, I have."

"How many times?"

"Times or people?" He cringed after he realized what he said. I bite my lip.

"Uhm, both?"

"Are you sure you want to know this, babe?"

"No, but now that I asked I don't think I could forget that I asked."

He sighed. "Don't know how many times, but with 5 girls." I try my hardest not to react outwardly. That's a…higher number for a 19 year old.

"Okay."

"That's it? You're not going to ask anymore questions?"

"Isn't asking about past relationships somewhere near the top of dating 'no-no's' in Cosmo?"

"I don't know, I've never read Cosmo." He teases. The warning bell signaling the end of lunch rings over the school. I let out a huff of air. "You have to go now?"

"Yea, that was the warning bell. 4 minutes to get to your next class." I stand up, lethargically. He holds my hands in his and pulls me close.

"How're you feeling?"

"Better. Thank you for coming. I'm not sure what I would've done without you." I admit. Admittance was the first thing my therapist had me confront. Let's just say those were a couple of explicative-filled sessions. He leans his head down and I meet him in the middle kissing him softly. I untangle a hand and place it on his neck pulling him closer.

He massages my lips and pulls away, kissing me again quickly. "I'll see you later, okay?" I nod.

"I love you."

"Love you too, baby."

"And with the whole sex thing, just give me time okay?" He nods, sincerely.

"I've got all the time in the world for you. Don't worry." I lean up to kiss him again and wrap my arms around his waist in a tight hug. I pull away after a moment and wave a farewell. He smiles and watches until I make it back inside.

423

"So, where would you like to start today?" I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to decide?" She smiles at me and shakes her head.

"Not always. If there's something in particular you feel like you need to talk about, then that takes priority over any topic I could come up with."

I lean back into the plush sofa. "I almost had a relapse a few days ago." She raises her eyebrows and leans forward.

"That seems like the perfect place to start. Tell me what happened." I relay my story to her in as much detail as I can without causing myself to remember how it made me feel. How weak I suddenly felt after such a trivial event.

I like how my therapist doesn't write anything down when I talk to her unless it's something very important. But even then, the only time I can really remember her taking her pen and putting it to paper is when I gave her my phone number and the first couple of sessions I had, just so she could get all of the details down concretely.

She keeps quiet until she's sure that I've finished telling her everything I think I need to. "It sounds like that was a scary moment."

"Not scary in the sense of horror, more in the way that I got scared I would have to go back to drinking again. I was scared to see the disappointment in both Tristan's and my mom's eyes again."

"Well you made a very wise choice when you called Tristan. He's really been proving your mom wrong, huh?" She smiles at me. Another thing that I like about her is that she always seems so nonjudgmental. Like nothing I say would faze her.

"Yea, she's even civil to him now!" She gasps humorously, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"The horror. The boyfriend and mother are friends!"

"Well I wouldn't go that far." She smiles and waits for a moment, just looking at me.

"You've come a long way, Rory." I don't say anything in return. "Reflecting back on your last few years…besides the alcoholism, what's one thing you would change if you could?"

My eyes go wide as I think, letting out a breath. "Could it be something that was _caused_ by the alcohol?"

"Sure."

"As I've told you, I'm not very close with my dad. Not so long ago I cursed him out. I've just always wanted a relationship with him, and when he started to pay attention to me right as I was approaching rock bottom, I flipped out at him. I told him that he made himself nothing to me and that he would remain nothing to me." I stop to collect my thoughts. "He knew how testy I'd become, and he…pushed me, for lack of a better term. I do think it's partly his fault, but I'd just like to go back to the day where our relationship became nonexistent."

"That's something a lot of people feel regret about. They think a failed relationship with a parent is their fault, but most of the time, it's the parent's fault completely. I hate to say it, but I might even put a little blame on your mom. Involving your father only when she couldn't handle you and not a moment sooner was not the right thing for her to do. Now I'm not saying you should hold a grudge against your mom, but just remember, tomorrow is a whole new day. You're 18, you have full reign to start that relationship with your father, no matter how obscure and slight it may be." I nod, and quickly wipe away a tear. She immediately hands me the tissue box. We sit in silence for a while longer.

"Do you wanna play a game?" She asked, smiling brightly. _A what?!_

"A…game?"

"Yea. We can play cards, or I have a few board games. I have Life, Sorry, Monopoly, and a couple others." I let out a deep breath and smile despite my best efforts not too.

"Could we play Life? I haven't played that in years." She nods, a hint of a smile still on her face. I watch her get up and come back with the board game. If you can't start from scratch in real life, why not start from scratch in a board game?

423

"Are ready to do this?" He holds my shaking hand in one hand while the other is running along my cheek.

"I've never been so unready in my life." I focus on Tristan's even breaths, trying to match mine to his. He leans forward and kisses my forehead. I let out a cry of fear, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Hey, hey. Look at me. You _will_ be fine, you hear me? You will get past this, and it'll just be a distant memory. I'll be holding your hand the whole time, I promise." He sits me down on the hard bench and kneels between my legs.

"Always got someone between your legs, don't ya Gilmore? How…ironic." My head whips up at the voice, and I get trembles through my body as I look at the face that has haunted me for months. I watch Greg give me a wink before he is escorted into the courtroom by armed guards.

As the doors close behind him, I break down. Never in my life have I succumbed to such anxiety. "I wanna go, take me away." Tristan pulls me into a hug. "I wanna leave!" I cry against his shoulder.

"I know, baby." He says soothingly. I pull away from him.

"I can't stay here. I have to go. Drive me home." I push him back and stand, flailing my arms.

"Rory—"

"No, stop." I bite my lip as another tremor rocks through me. "I can't do this. I'm not strong enough." My legs give out underneath me, and Tristan catches me just before I hit the ground. Sitting on the floor, he wraps his arms around me.

"Shh." He rocks with me. My cries have almost died off when we're interrupted by a guard coming out.

"Miss. Gilmore. We're ready for you now." Tristan nods for me.

"We'll be in, in a few minutes."

"No, I can't. Please don't make me." I whisper hoarsely. He kisses me hard and massages my tongue against his. I whimper into his mouth and pull myself closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. All I want to do is forget about the courtroom and stay wrapped in Tristan's warm arms. I feel his hand rubbing my back as he nips my lip and separates our mouths.

His eyes are filled with fire and it worries me. "If you don't go in there, you are letting him win. Think about Sara. She would do _anything_ to get her innocence back. Stand up for her, stand up for yourself. Prove that asshole wrong. _You_, Rory Gilmore, are a _powerful_ individual. You are well on your way to overcoming an alcohol addiction, you graduated high school on time after taking more than a month off, and you've let me love you. You are just about there, Rory. Jump, the other side is _right there_." I breathe into his neck.

"Do you promise to hold my hand?"

"I pinky swear." He holds his hand up for me. I twist my pinky around his and shake it.

"I look like a blotchy mess."

He smiles at me. "No, you look like someone who is about to go get a worthless piece of shit locked up in jail." I can't help the smile. He helps me up and we walk hand-in-hand into the courtroom. I breathe deeply as I feel Tristan squeeze my hand. I can do this. I can do this.

And I do.

423

I would never have guessed that by the age of 18, I would have almost died from liver failure, been an alcoholic, been a rape victim, and found my soul mate. But every single one of these things happened to me.

As of now, I've been sober for 7 years and I'm still counting. Even the aftermath of being raped hasn't been as brutal as getting over my addiction. It's just recently gotten to the point where I can be in the same room as it without feeling that everlasting burn in the back of my throat.

Looking down at my hands, I spin the rings on my left ring finger. The day I testified against Greg in court was the day I decided that I wouldn't let anything else be taken away from me without my full consent. My will to live and function in society had been stripped away from me before I could comprehend it, and I am just now finishing getting it back.

Ironically, I am now a therapist, working alongside the woman I saw for no less than 3 years. Her nonjudgmental attitude, I found out, came from her own addictions. She was the 1 in 10 that survives a heroin addiction. She says her body still hasn't repaired itself enough to always deal with pain the average person wouldn't feel.

My love of writing came back in these recent years as well, and everyone around me seems to be prompting me to write a book on my addiction and overcoming it. But to me, that just sounds silly. I will _never_ overcome alcoholism. I'm not being a defeatist by saying that, I'm being honest. While I can push aside my need for the depressant, it will always be a present part of my life. I still go to meetings about once a week. Thankfully I've moved on from the failure that resembled Diana's group to something that would have helped me when I was a struggling teen.

"Rory?" My thoughts are broken as I turn my head to look at the man who literally turned my life around. It was heading for the ground, and right now I feel as if I'm heading for the sky.

"Yea?" I watch as he comes into my view. I eye him carefully as he hesitantly approaches me. He kneels onto the floor next to me.

"How are you doing?"

"Alright, enjoying my bath. Why the apprehension?"

"I just didn't know if you'd be okay with me being in here."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well you threw a pretty good tantrum earlier, making it clear that you were going to take a bath and no one was to bother you." I feel my stomach drop at his conflicted features. I move a wet hand to grab his, and hold it tightly in mine.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You're always welcome to come keep me company." I smile at him. "I think it's mostly the hormones." He cracks a smile at my words.

"You can't blame everything on being pregnant, Rory."

"Blasphemy! You wouldn't understand, unlike me, you're not with child in this delicate state." I watch as he threads his fingers through mine and laughs disbelievingly.

"Delicate? You were asking me to be anything but delicate and gentle last night." I blush at his words. I was horny; it's not completely my fault…

He pulls my hand to my lips and kisses my knuckles.

"Has my mom left yet?"

"Yes, and so has Sara, and Ryan, and Paris, and their counterparts. The only person who's still here is your father." I nod minimally.

"Is he waiting for me?"

"No, he was cleaning up. He was just about finished when I came in here. He told me to say goodbye for him." I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"Impressive." Tristan chuckles.

"Are you feeling a little less worked up?"

"Yes, I'm sorry I was such a mess at dinner."

"Don't worry about it. Sara was enjoying it very much, though. She's almost enjoying you being 'preggers', as she likes to say, as much as you are. Plus I thought your homemade desserts were delicious. They got far to much criticism," I manage a small smile of thanks. It's quiet for a few moments.

"Having my food criticized wasn't the only reason I became unhinged."

"I realized that a little after the fact."

"I wanted the Raspberry Smirnoff so badly, you know?" He nods. I sometimes forget how much he's been through with me. How we got married close to 2 years ago and how I almost left my own wedding because the caterer slipped up and passed out alcohol. They were _supposed_ to keep it out of the way and under wraps so if someone really wanted it, they could. But it would be a pain in the butt to get. Even then, most guests knew of my history and chose not to consume anything out of respect for me.

"I'm sorry it was here. Paris told me that when she asked Doyle to pick up something for us, she wasn't thinking he'd bring alcohol." I nod and wipe away a tear. I hear Tristan sigh from beside me.

"I know it was unopened, but it was just sitting there." I see my pain reflected in his face. He moves his hand from mine and places it on my belly.

"If you have no willpower for yourself right now, just think about the baby, okay?" I nod quickly, wiping away another tear. I place my hand over his and squeeze it as he leans forward and kisses my forehead.

"I know I already went this week, but I think I'm gonna go to group again tomorrow. Get back on track."

"That sounds like a great idea." He pushes the hair back from my face. "Which group do you think you'll go to?"

"I have a break at work tomorrow from 1-4. I'll go during then."

"I'll meet you there."

"What? No, you have work."

"You are more important than anything else in this world. If you don't have your health, what else is there?"

I giggled. "Says the guy who used to do LSD and mushrooms regularly."

"Hey!" He pouted. I smile at him and come to a sitting up position, leaning against the tub edge.

"I'm sorry." I lean forward and kiss him gently.

He smiles against my lips and whispers, "No you're not."

I laugh against him. "Yea." I give him another peck and pull away. He looks at my face and groans.

"What?"

"You want something." I mock gasp at his insinuation.

"How dare you assume something like that!?"

"So you don't want anything?"

"Well, there might be _something_…"

He smiles, "Well?"

"Will you massage my lower back after I'm out? It's been bugging me a little with the extra weight." I rest my hand on my growing tummy. At 5 months, I'm not huge yet, but I was up for most of the day preparing for this evening.

"Yea, baby, of course. You wanna stay in here a little longer?"

I shake my head. "No, I think I'm alright. At this point, I think the massage will be more beneficial." He nods in agreement and helps me stand up. He grabs my over sized bath towel and holds it open for me, wrapping it around me snuggly. He dutifully helps me out of the tub and wraps his arm around my waist, keeping pace with me as we walk towards our bed. I unwrap the back of my body and lie down on my side, holding the towel as a cushion in front of me. I feel the bed dip as Tristan comes behind me and I let out a small shiver as his hands lightly dance down my spine.

He wastes no time pressing his fingers into my back, making small circles and concentrating on the spots that warrant the most response from me. As his talented fingers work, he places soft kisses on my bare shoulder and neck. I close my eyes, wrapped up in the sensations, slowly drifting away from consciousness.

"Thank you." I murmur, contentedly. He carefully removes most of his clothes, careful not to jostle me. He kisses my neck again and wraps his arm around me, holding me to him.

"I love you, baby. You're incredible." I move closer to him, kissing the hand that's draped over my side.

"I love you too. Thank you for everything, I don't like admitting it, but I would not be alive if it weren't for you." He gives me a gentle squeeze.

And in those last few minutes of consciousness, my whole addiction to alcohol seems silly and ridiculous. Why would I want that when I have _this_? When I have a husband who has supported me without fail since I was eighteen, and a healthy baby on the way?

But from my years of therapy, I learned that alcohol was the only way I knew how to live. Everyone has some sort of addiction. It may be shopping, food, cleaning, reading…whatever it may be, and it can be a positive addiction, but everyone has one, in varying levels of seriousness. I learned to direct my addictiveness on something else, more specifically…Tristan. And he has been more than okay with that. As I asked him about seven years ago, he has become my alcohol. Providing me with just enough intoxication to not return to an old addiction. As they say, in the new, out with the old.

**A/N: And that completes this story. I'm not greatly satisfied with the ending, in my opinion it's a little too happy, but it's okay. It still shows her troubles and how addiction is lifelong. Yea! So I hope this was good and you all enjoyed it. :] Sorry it took so long for this chapter also…it gave me a lot of grief. Rory just didn't have a whole lot of direction in her life after last chapter, so everything was up in the air.**

**So thank you EVERYONE, you are all wonderful and inspiring and beautiful people.**

**Peace and Love, Emilie.**

**P.S. Have an awesome holiday and new years! May all your resolutions stick. Hehe.**


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